The weird Misadventures of Laura in Middle Earth
by WeilIchsKann
Summary: When a group of LARPers don't face off against dressed up humans, but real orcs, they quickly realize that something is terribly wrong. A few lies and a scaredy-cat of a best friend later, Laura ends up knee deep in a world she thought was a work of fiction to face dangers that are quite real. [Caution! Contains traces of sarcasm, bad jokes, one liners, AU, awkwardness]
1. Of Knights and Orcs

**So... I got bored and decided to translate my Tenth Walker to English. I am doing this mostly for fun and to practice my English writing skills, so if anyone would be willing to beta this, I would be really happy. If you find any mistakes (and I am sure you will), be sure to PM me or write a review or something to let me know. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated and reviews will be rewarded with virtual cookies.**

**The original was posted on under the title "Die verrückten Abenteuer der Laura Hoffman in Mittelerde". It was posted in three parts and is not done yet, so feel free to check out the German version. This one will be slightly altered and maybe a bit expanded in some parts (I am looking at you, Denethor). I have permission to translate this (as the original author everything else would be really weird). **

**Lord of the Rings belongs to JRR Tolkien and all other mentioned works belong to their respective owners. I am not earning money with this and no copyright infringement is intended **

**Now, please, enjoy the story!**

**The weird Misadventures of Laura in Middle Earth**

**Prologue: Of Knights and Orcs**

"Okay, guys!" Sebastian has to shout for his voice to be heard over the general chaos filling the camp. But it doesn't help much. The people surrounding us keep doing whatever they were doing and simply ignore their captain. I watch with a grin as the young man lets out a frustrated growl and climbs upon a barrel to try again, this time even louder. "Everyone! Shut up and listen!" The people closest to Sebastian's barrel turn to face him and slowly the noise of the group of fifty people dies down.

"Thank you," he mutters when the clattering of armor has finally stopped. With a glare at a group of Roman soldiers that still haven't stopped talking, he continues. "Anyway... The plan goes as follows: We're gonna move out in half an hour and meet up with the treehuggers at the big Clearing. After that we'll move to the Meadow together and kick some orc asses!" Sebastian draws his sword and points it skyward. That move might have looked awesome and epic, if the sword hadn't been a stick wrapped in foam. Also the jeans and t-shirt peeking out from under his armor make the whole thing look quite anticlimatic. Not that I'm looking any better.

But nobody cares about that kind of details and Sebastian's elaborate battle plan is met with a roar of approval from the rest of the camp. "Treehuggers?" Mark, one of my friends shoots me a questioning glance, while Sebastian jumps down from his barrel.

"He means Elves."

"Ohh."

As opposed to most of the weekend warriors, Mark, Sebastian and I are already wearing our armors. The reason for that is probably Sebastian, who had kicked us out of bed way too early and had proceeded to bore us out of our minds with long winded explanations on orc battle strategies. In the end a Roman captain had managed to wrap the hour long talk up in one short and quite beautiful sentence: Charge and kill shit.

Anyway, right now we are standing in the middle of the muddy campground, while a bunch of half dressed players are trying to get their gear together around us. And from what I had heard earlier, we are already about an hour behind schedule for the final battle.

This is my first LARP ever. Sebastian is the one, who is into this kind of stuff and now, after months of failed attempts to bribe Mark and me, he and his friends finally managed to drag us both into one of these events. The bribe had been cookies, a butt-load of food and doing our math homework for the remainder of the semester. They had agreed to our terms and here we are. The guys had even given us some basic gear, which was really nice of them: ringmail, helmets, shin and forearm guards and, of course, swords. No real swords, mind you. We don't want to slice people to pieces, after all. I had even managed to get my hands on a wool cloak beforehand.

Luckily no one cares about the t-shirts or sneakers we are wearing under the medieval stuff. But considering the amount of people who had been walking around the camp while typing away on their iPhones, that didn't come as much of a surprise. But to be honest, all these dressed up people looked quite impressive. Not as much as the orcs, who have really awesome armors and masks and everything, but still. I wouldn't want to run into the Roman guys at night in a dark ally.

Sebastian has finally managed to elbow his way through the crowd and is jogging towards us. "Ready to kick these bastards' asses?," he asks with a huge grin plastered onto his face.

"Yeah, sure." An equally big grin spreads on my face while Mark nods his consent beside me. From what I have heard, the Orc Camp won the final battle during the last four years. This time however, the Elven, Human and Dwarven Camps forged an alliance to finally end the Orc Camp's reign.

By now a slowly growing group of warriors is gathering at the gate (which is really a gap in the rope that marks the Human Camp's borders). There are still some people running around and searching for whatever gear they are lacking, but it seems like everyone is going to be ready in about a few minute's time. Finally!

We make our way to the gate while Sebastian rambles on about his strategy. I am not really listening. From what I have heard, the battle will most likely dissolve in a bunch of one vs one fights sooner or later, plus by now I have listened to the whole thing about four times. And that are only the in-time times.

It takes about ten minutes for everyone to finally get dressed. Mark and I have taken guesses on what is taking people so long. We gave however up, when I heard someone ask something along the lines of 'do I look fat in this armor?'.

After Sebastian has made sure that everyone has cleared out of the camp, we get moving. Everyone is looking forward to the final battle, especially now, that we stand a chance against these bastard orcs. Most people are chatting idly until someone somewhere starts singing. It sounds a bit like one of the Hobbit credit songs, but with no one hitting the right notes, guessing becomes rather difficult. It is still better than the Latin crap some of the Romans sang until some Chaos Mage threatened to turn them into frogs until the LARP ended.

That shut them up. It had also earned the Chaos Mage the eternal gratitude of everyone else in the Human Camp.

The meeting point isn't far away from our camp – ten minutes at best – but I still start sweating before it even cones into view. The day has become surprisingly warm for the middle of October and I am slowly starting to regret taking the cloak with me. The heavy mail shirt isn't helping either.

About twenty elves are chilling on the clearing, most of them have taken seats around a group of wooden picnic tables in the middle of it. They are mostly armed with bows and dressed in green or brown. I also spy a ton of wigs and glue-on ears. Their leader, a guy with a blond longhair wig, green tights and weird looking fairy wings on his back, gets up to greet us as soon as we step out of the forest.

Wig-Legolas, as I decide to dub the Elven captain, starts talking in what must be Elvish. As soon as he falls silent, Sebastian steps forward and greets him with a broad gin and a simple "Hey, mate."

The Elf gives him an are-you-serious look, but continues anyway, this time in English. "So you finally chose to join us, mortals?"

"Yeah... Well, we had some trouble back at the camp. Sorry for being late, man." Sebastian gestures in the direction of the camp and shrugs. Wig-Legolas just gives a sigh and an eye roll before motioning at his army to get up and take their places next to us.

From the picnic area it's another five minutes walk until we reach the Meadow where the final battle against the orcs is going to take place. Most of the march there is spent talking with the Elves except for wig-Legolas, who still seems to be a bit miffed. But really, after four days it feels really good to talk to guys from other camps. Well, I for one, had a few chances to talk to the Elves, as I had been hanging out with Sebastian most of the time. But some of the others barely had that opportunity.

We hear the dwarfs and orcs long before we see them. There seems to be a trash talk competition going on between the two armies, and from the angry orcish curses echoing through the trees I guess that the dwarfs are winning. There is of course laughter mixed in – mostly after someone cracks an especially hilarious Yo Mama joke, so it is all good-natured.

When I step out onto the field, I am greeted with the sight of about two hundred orcs on the one side and maybe fifty dwarfs on the other. There are also a bunch of game masters in bright orange shirts running around and some medics are sitting on the grass a few steps away from a big table loaded with bottled water.

We take our places next to the dwarfs while I am still wondering where the Game Masters get all these awesome looking orcs. Like, really. These guys are easily wearing the best costumes I have ever seen. They might be even up to par with the stuff the Uruks wore in the _Lord of the Rings_ movies. Their armors are gleaming in the sunlight and the same goes for the tips of their spears and swords. All in all it is a scary sight.

Or it would be, if we all hadn't been sure that the weapons met every single required safety regulation.

I end up at the right flank, next to a bunch of dwarfs with huge axes and equally huge beards. The beards look quite real, the axes... not so much. Plus most of the dwarfs are taller than me. I try to get a good look at the orcs over their shoulders, but am met with a wall of heads, even more shoulders and spear shafts. Aww man.

I can, however, hear the shouts of the orcs. Even their voice acting is scary good. They sound like what I would imagine real orcs to sound like. Sadly, they don't sport the epic British accents. That would have been hilarious.

Mark positions next to me while the Elven archers take positions behind the combined dwarf/human army. It takes about another five minutes of shouting and shuffling around, until the Game Masters finally give the signal to get ready. I draw my sword and take a deep breath. Even though this is just a game, the thought of having a metric ton of orc players charging at our position kind of scares me a bit.

Then somebody shouts "For Middle-Earth!" and everyone sprints forward, Mark and I included. That battle cry is taken up by most. A few others a shouting in Elvish or some other languages I can't identify over the general chaos. From there on it takes about five seconds for shit to hit the fan. The orcs are banging their weapons against their shields while running and scream in their crazy good orc voices.

However, as soon as the groups of players collide, panicked screams erupt from the rows in front of me and the charge comes to a sudden halt. I nearly slam into the back of the guy in front, when everyone suddenly stops and starts moving backward. Mark and I are standing in the fourth row, so we don't immediately see what's going on. I can hear some of the Game Masters shouting into their megaphones, but the general noise drowns out whatever they are saying.

People behind us seem to have noticed that something is wrong and everyone starts to retreat towards the forest. At some point people are even shouting 'retreat!'. It looks like whoever took command actually managed to organize an ordered retreat, but before I get the chance to turn and run away from whatever the hell is going on, one of the dwarfs in front of me crumples on the ground and reveals a group of dudes with the most real looking orc-masks ever: greyish, scarred skin, yellow eyes and rows of teeth that appear to haven been sharpened.

The... creatures – I am at that point pretty sure that these guys are _not_ our orc players – are smelling worse than anything I ever had the misfortune to smell. Like a mixture of three week old roadkill, my grandma's fridge, public toilet and old sports socks. I'm about to throw up then and there, when I notice the blood dripping from their weapons.

For some reason this whole scenes reminds me of that one movie with Peter Dinklage and that crazy ex-girlfriend demon, that a friend of mine pirated a week ago... Right. Priorities.

What does one do when three murderous looking orcs with bloody swords are coming towards you? Run.

What do I do? "What the flying fuck, man!" I just stare at them in utter shock. When one of them jumps forward with a loud screech – yes, sometimes orcs do apparently screech – I manage to stumble back just in time for it's sword to miss my nose.

Mark grabs my arm and drags me backward, away from the battle, but the orcs are hot on our heals. People and monsters are running around everywhere and I have to watch where I'm going to not trip on a corpse or injured dude. An Elf sprints past me but gets cut down by a brutal sword-slash. The orcs catch up to us when we are only a few steps away from the forest surrounding the Meadow.

Both of us are by now drenched in sweat and grasping for air. Running for your life in ringmail is not the greatest idea if you have the stamina of a lazy-ass gamer. The orc closest to us swings his sword at me. I manage to get the LARP sword up in time to block the blow clumsily. Orcs might be incredible bad at swordfighting, that however, is not much of an advantage when you are about as bad as them. Right next to me Mark has obviously kicked one of the orcs in the balls and, while the creature crumpled a bit, has given it a nice headshot with the sword. My orc attacks once more, but this time his blow cut right through the LARP sword.

Well, that's Fiberglas and foam for you, I guess. I stare at the broken stick for a second, before I quickly take another step back to get out of the orc's range. But my foot doesn't step onto grass. Instead there is just thin air. Too late I remember the steep hillside on one side of the Meadow. Well, crap.

There is no way I can keep my balance. With a surprised shout I fall backwards, thankfully avoiding most of the orc's attack. His sword still manages to rip through the cheap mail and leaves an aching scratch on my right arm. In the same moment I see how one of the two orcs that were attacking Mark, runs him through with its blade. All of this happens in probably under a second, than Mark and the orcs vanish from my field of vision while I roll down the hillside.

This is the point were things started to go downhill in my life. Quite literally, actually. But before we get into all of that, let me introduce myself.

The name is Laura. Laura Hoffmann, if you want to be precise, but seriously. Where we are going, no one cares about last names anyway. At least as long as you aren't a hobbit or a dude from Bree or it's something cool like Elessar, but we will get to that.

Before shit hit the fan I had been your typical college student. Well, the lazy, gaming, pizza munching kind. I had been two semesters away from finishing my computer science Bachelor and was looking forward to enrolling at a different university to get the Master's degree.

Apart from that? Well, I managed to turn 22 without even getting remotely close to having a boyfriend and spent way too much time playing LoL, Skyrim and whatever else games looked even slightly interesting to me. Same goes for books and movies. While everyone else was out at the club, you would have most likely found me in front of a computer watching Netflix or playing games.

What else is there to tell about me? That I am afraid of dogs and have a little sister? Well, I could probably fill a book with the unimportant details of my life, but that would be quite boring and would not help you understand this story in the slightest. Let's just get on with it and skip to the part of my life where I ended up hip deep in Middle Earth and fucked up the entire canon, alright?


	2. A very random Encounter

**Chapter 1: A very random Encounter  
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My fall down the hillside ends abruptly when I land in a pile of dry autumn leaves. What the fuck just happened? I replay the events of the last five minutes in my head, unable to come up with a logical explanation. Well... Except one: Maybe someone knocked me out and I ended up dreaming some weird-ass bullshit. That would work. Well, kind of. I normally don't realize that I'm dreaming and the cut on my arm feels pretty real. As do the twenty other bruises I collected while rolling down the freaking slope.

I lie in the pile of leaves, still unsure what to do next. On the one hand my brain is telling me to run away and get as much distance between me and these crazy orcs as possible, but on the other hand Mark is somewhere up there with a sword stuck in his gut. And I can't just leave him. We are friends after all. But before I make a decision I notice something else. Or, better, the lack of something.

The fall wasn't very long, but for some reason the only noise I can hear right now is the rustling of leaves in a light breeze and the chirping of a bird. What the hell? I should be able to hear at least a bit of what is going on on the Meadow, right? I close my eyes and concentrate, but there's still nothing. Well, that's strange.

I get up and curse under my breath. My limbs feel like I crashed into every tree and stone there is on the way down. I'll probably look like a freaking Dalmatian tomorrow. Luckily the cut on my arm isn't bleeding too badly and doesn't seem to be very deep either, so I'll just leave it for now. But I should get it checked out once I get back to... civilization. Yeah, whatever.

The hill is, as I had guessed, quite steep but the forest is not as dense as I had first thought. However... I pause and look around. Something is wrong. When Sebastian had explained his strategy for the first time, there had been a map of the surroundings on the table. And that map had clearly shown a broad, frequently used road at the foot of this slope. The sight I'm greeted with, is something completely different. A narrow path, overgrown and from its looks, rarely in use.

Well, that's odd. I only had a short glance on the map and my attention had been focused on the battlefield, so maybe I just overlooked this path... I decide to try to get back to my friends. It has been enough time for someone to call 911 and the police will probably have arrived by now. So it should in theory be safe to get back there.

I'm an okay climber, so I should be able to get up there quite easily. With a shrug I start to clamber up the hill, but after a few meters the earth I had placed my feet on gives way and I slide back down. Crap. Two failed tries later I curse silently and give up. Pissed I kick the nearest tree. Said tree turns out to be a lot harder than my foot, causing me to drop another cluster F-Bomb.

Today is certainly not my best day.

Maybe there is a way from here to the Meadow but I can't remember Sebastian's map well enough. Damn. The best course of action is probably to walk down the path to find a better climbable point. And that is exactly what I do. I pick a direction at random and walk down the path as quickly as possible. The armor is slowing me down but I don't really want to discard it, after all these orcs or monsters or whatever could be still here. Not that the cheap ringmail I am wearing would help much. But it is better than nothing.

When even after ten minutes of walking no other path or a better climbable slope presents itself, I turn around with a sigh and try the other direction. I mean, come on! There has to be a way up there! I look up to the sky. It has to be around midday and by now and it has gotten even warmer. I am really regretting having brought that cloak.

I am legging it through a forest, not having planned any further than 'reach the battlefield and see what's going on', dirty and splattered with blood that isn't mine, worried and increasingly pissed. Great. Freaking awesome.

I'm so busy being pissed that I don't notice the person riding towards me until his shadow falls on me. What I see when I look up to him is one more thing to add to the list of weird shit I have seen today. The gray horse the dude is sitting on is gigantic. The dude himself is clad in leather and fur with some ringmail thrown in for good measure. He also carries a sword and looks like he hasn't seen a shower in weeks. It's close to impossible to guess what his natural hair color might have been... but I'll take my chances and call it a dark blonde or maybe brown.

The guy doesn't look like anyone I have seen in the Human Camp and I don't remember anyone mentioning bringing a horse to the event. But his gear sure looks impressive. Just like the orcs' gear. Maybe I should get the fuck away from here. However, he hasn't drawn his sword yet or killed me before I noticed him. Plus the look he's giving me now is more curious than hostile.

So maybe there is another LARP or some reenactment stuff going on here? Anyway, I decide to take my chances and ask the dude for the way. If he's riding around here he might know how to get to the Meadow. I conveniently ignore the fact that I'm walking around here without having any clue on how to get anywhere.

The rider slows down a bit once he's next to me and gives me a curious/worried once-over. That's not surprising as I must be looking like shit with all the blood and dirt on my clothing. But I still need directions. Here goes nothing. "Hi! Uhm, sorry, but do you know how to get to the clearing up there?" I point at the hill and into the general direction of the Meadow.

The dude steadies his horse next to me. He looks tired as hell. "Are you injured?" When I shake my head, he continues. "Follow the path. After about a quarter of a mile it takes a sharp turn to the right and leads up the hill." Ah, nice... wait, why is he measuring stuff in _miles_? We are in the middle of freaking Europe! No one's using that weird system here. I don't have a problem with converting miles to kilometers, don't get me wrong. After reading _the Lord of the Rings_ for the second time I had taken the time to look up how to convert miles and kilometers. Plus my dad and little sister had kept asking me to do the math for them when we were in the US for vacation. After three weeks of playing the human calculator (or Spock, as my dad had kept calling me), this stuff had become second nature. It's maybe not as accurate as using a real calculator because I'm using rounded values for my calculations, but one hell of a lot faster.

But it's still kind of strange. I'm about to thank the guy, when he starts talking once more. "Pardon my asking, my Lady, what are you doing alone in the wild so far south from Imladris?"

Wait. _What_?

"Imlad-" I pause. Maybe I didn't catch the last word right but to me it sounded a lot like the guy just asked, what I was doing south of Rivendell.

The guy reads my confused and maybe shocked expression as incomprehension and quickly adds: "Rivendell, the home of Lord Elrond Half-elven." Okay, that doesn't make it any better. But at least I didn't misunderstand him. But this conversation still got one hell of a lot weirder.

"Okay, look. I really appreciate the effort and everything, but can you go OOC for a sec?" Now the dude looks at me like I had grown a second head or started to talk Klingon or something. Seriously, what is with people today? "Never mind. Just forget I said that, alright?" He just nods. Anyway. I just have to get rid of this guy and be on my way. Might as well play along with him if that works better. "We were attacked by orcs and I have to find my friends. They might be hurt... or worse. So, if you'd excuse me, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

Sadly, my plan utterly fails. The dude jumps off his horse and draws the sword before quickly scanning our surroundings. I make sure to get out of the guy's range because that blade looks freaking sharp. I think about making a run for it, but the dude has a horse and is about one and a half heads taller than I. Well... Let's hope he wants to use that sword against hypothetical orcs. Otherwise I am most likely toast. I'd probably better to not piss him off.

"Orcs! That is ill news. I heard about trouble in the north, but orcs leaving the mountains and ambushing travelers in the bright of day... This is truly ill news." He pauses and after a moment of thinking turns his horse around. "You should not wander the wild alone in dark times like these. I shall accompany you to that clearing. But I doubt you will find anything there." And with that he starts walking.

I hurry up to match the dude's walking speed and give him a confused look. "Why? There was a big, bloody battle half an hour ago. No one could have cleaned that up in such a short amount of time." I point at the blood on my ringmail to get the point across. The dude furrows his brow and shoots it a disapproving look. Like, really. Chances are we will walk right into a large scale police operation or something. But whatever. As long as I get there without getting stabbed, that's fine by me.

"I can only tell you what I saw. There was no indication of a battle when I rode past that place." He shrugs. "My Lady, if you don't mind me asking... what was your destination before your company was attacked?"

Well, that's weird. Maybe the dude is wrong or saw the wrong clearing. That is at least the most logical explanation. There is no way in hell I could have imagined that fucked up battle. My brain might produce some strange things sometimes. But that? And his question... Hm. I am luckily quite good at improvising stuff, so that isn't much of a challenge. And if this guy is that much of a _Lord of the Rings_ nerd, fine. "Rivendell. We were on the way to Rivendell." There you go. Happy now?

"In this case I can offer you my assistance, for I too am on my way to Imladris with an errand. You may accompany me, if you wish." Man, this guy is _good_ at talking Medieval.

"Right... Uhm, thanks." Chances are I will never have to fall back to that offer... _But what if he__'__s right_, the paranoid part of my brain adds. _If there really is no one_? I would have loved to say 'bullshit, that's impossible', but real orcs had been impossible too until maybe an hour ago. So what if he _is_ right? I could of course try to get back to the camp, but with the possibility of running into orcs in the woods... no thanks, I value my life. I also don't have a mobile with me, which sucks. So calling for help from here won't work. It's also quite a way from here to the nearest town or Autobahn, plus I have no idea how to get there.

Crap.

Okay. In the unlikely case that Sir Dude here is right and there really is no one and nothing at the clearing, I can as well go with him and check out that Rivendell-place of his. Chances are they will have a phone or computer. I mean, it's not like he is on road to Middle-Earth-Rivendell. It's most likely going to be some kind of inn or hotel or whatever where his reenactment-friends are chilling.

Wait... isn't that how all these horrible cliche horror movies start? But seeing how we got orcs running around the forest, the chances of running into a crazy serial killer in the same forest are technically nonexistent. In this case... screw it, the dude has a sword. If he is right I'm sure as fuck not going to go alone. That's how people die in these horrible cliche horror movies!

The way has taken a turn to the right and has by now climbed most of the hill. Right now it's running parallel to the cliff I fell of earlier. All in all it was quite a big detour and we must have walked about a kilometer by now. As I look around, I notice that the surroundings look kind of familiar. Looks like we are getting somewhere. As we draw closer to the Meadow, I start feeling tense. I doubt I'm ready to see whatever happened there. Especially if it includes seeing people I like dead... But I can't hear any sirens or screams or even people talking. What the fuck?

A moment later we step out of the forest and onto the sunlit Meadow. Or, well, a clearing that looks exactly like the Meadow. Trees, grass, bushes... everything looks the same. But there is no trace of blood or dead people or, really, anything out of the ordinary. Relief washes over me. After all there is a chance that everyone else is alright and I have just taken a hard hit on the head or something... It makes sense, after all. The orc incident, some dude telling me he is going to Rivendell... all of that is way too fucked up to be real. On the other hand I'm not so sure. All of this feels so real.

I take another look around, hoping to find something to tell me what's going on here. But there is nothing. Just a beautiful clearing in the middle of a sunlit forest, the wannabe-knight, his horse and me. Well then... "I'd like to accompany you to Rivendell, if you don't mind," I say with a flat voice. God, saying that out loud makes me sound plain crazy.

The dude looks down at me and says: "I am sorry I could not help you, my Lady." He sounds sincerely sorry as he says it. "But maybe the elves have received news of your companions and can help you find them, once we arrive at Imladris." Elves. Right.

"I sure hope so." After a short pause I add: "By the way, I'm Laura. And can you _please_ stop that 'my Lady' crap?" If we are going to travel together, knowing each others name sounds like a good idea. And that Lady stuff makes me feel really uncomfortable. It's not like I look lady-like with all that blood and dirt on me.

To be honest, it's not like I look lady-like, ever.

"That is a strange name," the dude comments. "I am Boromir of Gondor." He bows slightly.

...I should get a bodyguard that is not Sean fucking Bean.

Plus this reminds me of all these incredibly cheesy fanfictions you come across when you go to the weird parts of the internet. That kind where squealing fangirls hook up with everything that has a heartbeat and isn't Gimli. And of course join the fellowship as a tenth member. Well, that last bit doesn't sound too bad. I mean, why not? After all this is just some fucked up dream.

And chances are I will wake up soon enough with a big freaking bump on my head before we even get close to Rivendell.

**Thanks to alexma and Guest for reviewing! It means a lot and I really hope you enjoy this chapter as well! And thanks to everyone who faved or followed this, too.**

**I really hope the difference in speech between the LotR characters and the OC is noticeable and that I didn't screw up the grammar too much. Feedback on that matter is greatly appreciated. See you next time!**


	3. On the road to somewhere

**Chapter 2: On the road to... somewhere**

I give Boromir or whoever this guy is a curious once-over. He does indeed carry the Horn of Gondor and a big-ass roundshield is fastened to the horse's saddle. The guy doesn't look like he has an ID on him so that I can confirm his identity, but if I remember correctly both horn and shield were handed down in the line of the stewards. Seeing how he has both items, chances are high that this dude is indeed who he claims to be. And he should be quite trustworthy... as long as there are no magic rings around.

Meanwhile, my inner fangirl is frantically searching for a Sharpie to get an autograph on her shirt.

"So... Uhm, nice to meet you." I have no clue on how to say 'hi' to people in Middle Earth in a way that doesn't make me look completely out of place. Maybe I should ask someone about that at some point. "Let's get moving?" We have been hanging out here way too long already in my opinion and there might still be a metric ton of orcs somewhere in the vicinity (and I seriously hope to never have to meet them again). I start to walk back into the forest, but Boromir stops me.

"Wait." I turn around again and rise an eyebrow at him. "It would be discourteous to have you walk while I ride." Oh. Right. I forgot about that kind of stuff. Maybe I should ask Boromir about that greeting. He seems to be familiar with that kind of stuff. The Gondorian offers me the saddle of his horse.

"Oh, no. It's fine. I can keep walking. But thanks anyway."

That obviously was the wrong thing to say. A short discussion including an epic stare down ensures. In the end I give up. We have to get moving after all, because Boromir does have an important meeting to attend and we already wasted a lot of time here. Plus there is still the danger of Death by Orcs, something I'd like to avoid. I clamber onto the horse's back – the whole thing must have looked really awkward, even though I have had riding lessons when I was younger – and we finally start the journey towards Rivendell.

There isn't much talk during the rest of the day. Most of it was probably me, when I tried to trade places with Boromir because I felt bad for making him walk the whole afternoon. The dude, however, declined in a very polite fashion and kept walking. The novelty of the whole situation fades pretty fast and leaves me once more worrying about Sebastian and Mark. Sadly there is absolutely nothing I can do for them right now. I do however keep an eye out for anything hiding between the trees.

As the day drags on I wait for Boromir to do something suspicious. Whip out a phone, glance at a wristwatch, anything, really. The guy doesn't even use contractions when talking! Well, except for ''Tis', which doesn't help either. There's no reaction to pop culture jokes either. It's ridiculous, really.

The sun is already setting when we finally leave the woods behind and step out onto open terrain. There seem to be some barren hills in the east and behind them I can make out the faint shape of a mountain range. That must be the Misty Mountains! Awesome! The path we have been following all day seems to be in a better state here, but it still doesn't look like it has seen much use during the last few months.

When we stop, the moon is already high in the sky and it's probably way after midnight. I'm at this point about to fall asleep on horseback, so I'm glad when Boromir leads the horse to a pan a few meters away from the path. I half slide, half fall of its back and stand around awkwardly, while the dude rummages around the saddlebags and pulls out some dried fruit and bread. He doesn't ask for any help and seeing how I have no clue what to do, I'm content with watching him closely. It doesn't take him long to get a small fire going, which I am really thankful for. After sundown the temperatures dropped an impressive amount and I'm freezing under my cloak.

I quickly eat my share of food, before peeling back the mail and fabric on my arm and taking a closer look at the scratch that piece of shit orc gave me. Upton asking, Boromir who has sat down on the other side of the fire hands me some water and a clean cloth. Well, as 'clean' as a cloth can be when it's owned by a dude who has been traveling the wild for months. I clean the cut and bandage it. It really isn't deep or long, so I should be fine. Boromir watches the whole thing but doesn't comment on it.

I go to sleep soon after. Boromir has handed me a spare blanket and I'm glad about that. It's really freaking cold, after all. When I take of my mailshirt, Boromir turns away like he could catch the plague from looking at the stuff I'm wearing under it.

I wake up because someone is shaking my shoulder. My first thought is, that I'm probably late for college and my flatmate decided to come into my room and wake me up. But the realization that it's freaking cold for some reason and that my hair is damp from drew quickly brings me back to reality... Or whatever this is.

It must be really early because the sun hasn't even fully risen, bathing the land in a cold, pallid light. Not like there is much to see, anyway. Most details are lost in the early morning fog and it's even colder than yesterday. I yawn and shake my head to at least get rid of some of the water in my hair. At that point I'm glad to have short hair. It doesn't take long to dry and doesn't get in the way too much.

Boromir is already getting his stuff together and grumbles something unintelligible when he notices that I'm up, to which I reply with a tired "Morning". The guy looks like he could use a cup of super strong coffee. Or ten. Ah, well. I wonder if there even is something remotely related to coffee in Middle Earth. I personally am more of a tea person, but it's still an interesting question. Breakfast doesn't take us more than five minutes and after saddling and loading the horse, we are on the road again.

Once the sun fully rises above the Misty Mountains, the mist finally starts to clear out and it gets a bit warmer. The landscape, however, doesn't change much during the day. We travel in silence, until Boromir finally decides to break it. "Tell me, where do you hail from? Your manner of speaking and your name sound strange to me."

Ah, great. Well, time to pull some cliché stories out of my arse. That always seems to work in these fanfics, so why not here? Plus it's probably more plausible than telling the truth about myself. "I'm from western Rohan, you know." I had read up a bit on Rohan at home and I know a bit about what's going on there right now, which is pretty good for my cover story. And thanks to the lack of technology people can't simply run background checks on you. I'll just have to hope I won't ever get into a situation where I'd have to speak Rohirric. That would suck. Also I'm not terribly familiar with their culture. So... it would probably be better to steer clear of the topic as a whole.

"I did not realize women were riding with the Rohirrim?"

"Well, they don't." I shrug. Time for the most cliché story ever. "I wanted to accompany a good friend of mine who had been tasked with bringing news to Rivendell, but they wouldn't let me. So I dressed up and followed them anyway. By the time they realized who was riding with them, it was too late to send me back alone." Sadly my name doesn't fit that story in any way, and guessing from the look Boromir is giving me right now he knows that I know that this is utter bullshit.

Damn you, fanfics! Time for a strategic change of subject. "And what about you? You said you were from Gondor, right?"

Luckily Boromir doesn't dwell on the subject, but I'm sure that he is taking a mental note to come back to this later. "My father, the Steward of Gondor, has sent me to Imladris with news and questions that Lord Elrond might be able to answer." Right. That riddle-thingy. Something about the end being close and the ring, if I'm not mistaken. "But I do not dare to talk about it here, for there might be unfriendly ears nearby." He looks around like he's expecting some squirrel or mouse to immediately run off towards Mordor. Or Isengart, of course.

I nod. "I see. Let's hope you find whatever answers you are looking for. You have come a pretty long way from Gondor after all."

"So you would not wish for me to find answers if I came from a village near Imladris?"

"Wha-? No, that's not what I meant!" Okay, I left myself wide open for that one. But seriously, who expects Boromir of all people to use that opportunity? Whatever. It is good to see that the guy has a decent sense of humor.

"Forgive me, I should not have said that." Really? Is he really trying to apologize for a joke? What the hell, man.

"No, don't. It's fine. Normally I know a joke when I hear one. I just didn't think you'd do that." I shrug and grin at him. "Stupid jokes are in my opinion way better than thinking about who might be eavesdropping on a serious conversation." And really... Saruman and Sauron sure could learn something by listening to people cracking jokes.

We continue in silence. The sun is creeping across the sky and it is getting warmer. We don't even stop for lunch and again, ride until after sundown. The landscape stays the same while the days turn into a week. During that time I realize how utterly useless my skill set is for surviving in the wild. It's not like there are any computers to repair or equations to be solved here... I do, however, pick up on most of the essential stuff like starting a fire after two or three days of watching Boromir.

We come across little groves or streams once in a while, but that's about it. The landscape here is really boring, except maybe for the Misty Mountains in the background. Heck, not even the fact that it's freaking Middle Earth can give the barren hills we have been passing for days any sort or appeal.

The scratch on my arm is healing just fine, which is good. If it had gotten infected out here, I would probably have been toast. Or at least pretty close to being toast, depending on Boromir's healing skills.

Boromir showed me a map at some point, but it wasn't as accurate as the Middle Earth maps I have at home. Hobbiton and Rivendell for example weren't even on it. Most of the Shire was actually a big, white spot. But from what I remembered from my maps, we're getting close to the hidden valley. And thinking about how Boromir managed to find it on his own in the original story, we should be just fine. When Boromir asked for my theory on the location of Rivendell, I vaguely pointed at the spot on the map, where it should have been, but said that it was only a guess. The Gondorian just nodded, before going back to studying the map, while I finished my breakfast.

After about another week, we are moving across a windy and muddy highland. It's probably the twelfth day since the battle and I'm slowly beginning to doubt that this is just a dream. The path we had been following all the time looks like it used more than once a year up here and maybe an hour ago it even met with another path coming from the west. The few trees that grow up here are thin, weather-beaten and crippled things, that look like they could survive an atomic winter. There are some bushes scattered across the landscape, but that's about it.

Boromir looks around with a doubtful look and mutters: "Who would wish to wander such forsaken lands? There is nothing here but wind, mud and -" He stops dead in his tracks and his jaw drops. Okay, that's a weird reaction. Did he see an orc taking a shit in the darkness ahead? I follow his gaze and suddenly Boromir's expression makes sense.

We are looking down at a well hidden trench between mountains. Somewhere far beneath us, at the bottom of the valley, I can see colorful lights gleaming in the darkness.

"Well," I can't help but grin. "Looks like we made it! Wait... Do you guys in Gondor know what a 'high five' is?" That would be so awesome. Please say yes. Please -

"I have never heard of such a thing."

Aww, damnit.

**Okay, this chapter is kind of short and there are a few parts I'm not 100% happy with, but right now I have no idea how to fix them. I'll probably go over it again and see if I can clean it up a bit.**

**Yay, reviews to answer! First of all: Thanks to all of you for taking the time to comment, fav, read and follow. You are awesome :D**

**Cheez Socks: Thanks! It's good to know that people like the OC. I hope you enjoyed this chapter then :D**

**TheBigOne: Wow, when I think about all the amazing stuff floating around here that's a pretty huge compliment. Thanks, man! I just checked the profiles of some really awesome authors, but couldn't find their nationalities. Dangit, lol**

**SortingHat: Thank you! Yeah, I, too, noticed that in some SIs (and to be honest, there are a few parts where I did that in the original version, too :/ Part of it was laziness and another part was not wanting to change the story at some points...). But it's kind of weird (and boring) when 90% of the story go like that... I mean, come on! You can do better than changing only Legolas' relationship status.**

**The Mary Sue theory sounds good and you might be on to something there. Uhhh, please don't hate me for using a thesaurus at some points D:**


	4. Boromir, the dirty traitor

**Chapter 3: Boromir, the dirty traitor**

We arrive at Rivendell in the early hours of what I believe is the 24th of October. I can't help but smile at the sight. There are only a few colorful lanterns glowing in the windows of the distant house. I can also make out thr faint shapes of a few other buildings spread out across the valley, but all of them are dark. That's not surprising, seeing how late it is. Elegant stone bridges span the river running through the valley. There are also a lot of trees growing on the mountain flanks. I can't see any details in the dark, but the smell indicates they are pines.

"Whoa." Seeing this place for real is incredible. I've seen Rivendell in the movies and on drawings and everything, but this... it's amazing. And PJ didn't do it justice in the movies, as far as I can tell from up here. But we'll see about that soon enough, I guess. "We made it to Rivendell!" I grin down at Boromir. The guy seems to relax a bit. During the last few days he had looked really tense and had talked even less than normal, but in the darkness it's kind of hard to tell.

"Indeed. But come. I could use a hot bath and a fresh meal."

"And a soft bed! I've slept on enough stones and roots to last me a few months." Boromir lets out a short laugh as I say that and starts leading the horse down the path. As I look down into the valley again, my last doubts about this really being Middle-Earth vanish.

"Yes, I agree. I would not mind sleeping in a real bed either. But I am afraid, that this will have to wait for a bit." The slope is getting steeper and I have to dismount. We scramble down the white gravel path, that is winding down the mountainside. It takes a while until we reach the first trees, which are indeed pines.

As soon as we enter the shadow of the forest, two tall figures emerge from the trees. Their appearance nearly makes my yaw drop. They are clad in silver armor and long, fawn cloaks. Both are carrying slender swords and a strange glow is surrounding them. I'm not sure if that is just a reflection of moonlight or these guys are really emitting a faint light. They are probably the most beautiful people I've ever seen. Holy crap, these guys must be elves of Rivendell! There is no way anyone else in Middle-Earth looks like this.

But why are elves bioluminiscent? That's kind of weird if you think about it...

"_Daro__!_" The dark haired elf steps forward and blocks our path. "Tell us your names and your purpose, strangers. Afterwards we shall decide if you may traverse the borders of Imladris." Hm? I've never heard about guards in Rivendell, but it does make sense. There have been Nazgûl and orcs running amok near this place so it is logical to be careful.

"I am Boromir, son of Denethor, from Gondor. I have come to ask Lord Elrond's advice in an important matter. And this" - Boromir points at me - "is Laura of Rohan, who has come here to bring word from the south."

The elves exchange a few sentences in their melodic language, before they sheath their swords and turn to face us once more. The dark haired elf starts talking once again. "You may pass. Welcome to Imladris, Lord Boromir, Lady Laura. _Hannam an i 'ovannas!_" The elves step to the side and vanish in the shadows as quick and silently as they have appeared. I just stare at the trees in disbelieve. These guys would have made darn good Ninjas.

"Hey." Boromir nudges in the side. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine." Now that we are allowed to enter the valley, we get going again and slowly continue our descend. It is breathtaking, in a way. The trees, the lights and the smell of pine in the air...

"You should be careful," Boromir says in a low voice and glances back at the point, where the guards had vanished. "These elves are strange folk. They may be wise, but you never know what their motives might be. They say mortals are but pieces on their chessboard. What?" Boromir must have noticed the what-the-fuck look I'm giving him.

"Yet you came all the way from Minas Tirith to talk to them," I comment and rise an eyebrow at him. Colorful lanterns adorn some of the wayside trees and it is warm down here. To me it feels more like a mild summer evening than a day at the brink of winter. Maybe that's one of the powers of Elrond's ring, just like in Lórien. By now I feel like I could sleep on my feet. Ah, well. That's elven magic, I guess.

Boromir just shrugs. "I am just saying that placing your trust on these people might be dangerous." Right... You aren't paranoid at all, are you, mate? We have arrived at one of the bridges and the house of Elrond comes into view. I can't make out many details, but some windows are still lit and the whole building seems to be quite big. Ivy is climbing up the walls and sleek pillars while a yellow lantern is illuminating the front porch.

We walk up to the door and I'm wondering if we should knock or not, when the door opens and three elves with small lights in their hands step outside. I have no clue how the guards managed to inform them of our arrival before we got here. Maybe light signals? Who knows. Or maybe they saw us crossing the bridge. Whatever. One of the elves takes the horse and leads it away, while the other two welcome us, but I'm barely listening. Finally they motion at us to follow them inside.

I'm led through a hall and up a wooden flight of stairs, where I mutter a quick good night to Boromir. He gives me a smile and continues down a different hall. My elf, a dark haired woman, leads me down a long corridor until she finally opens a door to a small room with a bed in it. I utter a thank-you and the she-elf curtsies and leaves. A bed! Finally! After getting out of the armor and most of my dirty clothing, I collapse into bed and fall asleep almost immediately.

When I wake, bright sunlight is streaming into my room. Birds are chirping outside and I can hear the faint sound of laughter. It takes me a moment to figure out why I'm waking up to a dark, high wood ceiling, but then it hits me. We made it to Rivendell yesterday! Yay! I take a quick glance around the room. My dirty clothes which I had carelessly left on a chair yesterday are gone.

Holy crap, luckily I had decided against wearing that Mordor-University-Shirt under my armor. It would have been hard to explain _that_ to anyone here. Plus the 'one does not simply walk into it' joke would have been lost on them. But whoever took them thankfully had left a tray with breakfast on it behind. A stack of what appears to be fresh clothing is sitting on a small wooden desk. A bulky and kind of dark looking wardrobe completes the interior of the small room.

The fact that someone entered my room while I slept to grab my stuff and leave behind food kind of creeps me out. My sleep is normally pretty light, but whoever did that managed to sneak away without waking me up, which is really impressive. But it's elves and Tolkien's books stated they had a light tread. But (not) seeing it in action is still really creepy... That reminds me of that one boring book, where the dude enjoys watching a random girl sleep. Would Aragorn do that with Arwen? Okay, that's one messed up train of thought.

The breakfast turns out to be delicious, even though it is a rather simple meal. The clothes are sadly all dresses. Dang it. The last time I wore a dress war probably two years ago when my little sister graduated... But what can you do? I am of course grateful for the clothes, but it's just... Weird, I guess. Five minutes later I'm ready to set out on the most important quest, ever: finding a place to take a bath.

It takes about half an hour of walking around the house and opening all kinds of doors, until I finally give up and ask the next best elf for help. The she-elf smiles at me and guides me to what seems to be a bathroom, where she offers to pour me a bath. I end up helping her, which earns me a funny look from the elf. When she offers to help me wash my hair it is my turn do give her a funny look and politely decline. I mean, why would some random person want to wash someone else's super greasy hair? Luckily the she-elf doesn't seen to be offended and leaves me to my bath.

A long soak later, I'm clean once more, and seriously, after two weeks in the wild plus four shower-free days of LARP that feels really good. The scratch on my arm has nearly completely healed, but it looks like I'll keep a thin, white scar from it. Well, that sucks, but seriously, who cares?

I end up walking around the house for a while - mostly because I'm hopelessly lost. The house might look big from the outside, but I'd bet my right hand that it's even bigger on the inside. Like Hermoine's handbag, but with less chaos. But it's interesting nontheless. While wandering the halls I came across the library, a big room with high, colored glass windows that made the white marble floor look like a colorful mosaique. The shelves were stuffed with books and scrolls and and elves were sitting on wooden tables near the windows. An eery silence filled the room, only broken by the sounds of light footsteps or pages being turned.

I also came across a few rooms with wide open balconies overlooking the gardens below, a few empty bedrooms and what looked like Elrond's study. Fortunately the elf lord wasn't there to complain about me bursting in, so I looked around for a moment and left before anyone could notice that I had even entered the office.

I've finally found my way to the entrance hall, when someone shouts: "Laura? Bloody hell, is that you?" Surprised I turn around. Sebastian is sprinting after me, a broad grin and the look of relieve on his face. He stops in front of me and shoots me an even bigger grin. "Hi! Are you okay? How'd you get here? Have you seen anyone else? Is-" I rise my hands in an attempt to stop the barrage of questions Sebastian is firing at me. He gets the hint and falls silent, giving me the opportunity to answer some of the stuff.

"Hey to you, too." I flash him a grin, but it's smaller than his. If he's asking me, if I have anyone with me... We'll see. "It's good to see you, man. And no, I didn't see anyone." I look around and watch as an elf walks past us. "Uhm, can we talk about this somewhere else?"

"Yeah, right. Come on." Sebastian takes the lead and walks outside. We follow a path away from the house and through a beautiful garden full of flowers I've never seen before. Once we are a good distance away from the house, Sebastian starts talking again. "I really hope they're gonna be fine. So... How'd you get here?"

As we continue to walk, I give him a short summery of my way to Imladris, starting with Mark getting stabbed by an orc. Thinking about that hurts... Till now I had tried to push that memory into the farthest corner of my mind, and now that I have to think about it, it comes back with all its might. And once again I'm left wondering if there is anything I could have done to help. Sebastian pales a bit when I tell him about Mark and curses under his breath. When I mention Boromir he just furrows his brow, but says nothing. "...and then we arived here yesterday evening. Well, that's my story. What about you?"

Sebastian hesitates for the briefest moment, before he nods and starts talking. Huh? What was that about? His tale, however, is both longer and more exiting than mine: he'd been the person who tried to get an organized retreat to work. It had looked good at the start, but then a group of orcs had flanked them and the players had fled into the forest. Sebastian's plan had been to make it to the parking lot and get the hell away from there, but the orcs had caught up with them long before they reached the cars. Sebastian had managed to get to the cars and had ducked behind a tree to evade a group of orcs, but when he had come out of his hidingplace, the world had looked differently. No cars, no orcs, no blood and no corpses. Just a plain forrest.

After having a mental blue-screen he had started to wander the forest until he met a group of people some hours later. Said people turned out to be the hobbits plus Strider. Sebastian had managed to snag a ride with them somehow and together they had continued to Rivendell. But Sebastian had had great timing and ended up on Weathertop with them - he physically shivered while talking about the Nazgûl - where Frodo got hurt. From that point onwards it was a race against time and a bunch of black riders Rivendell. But shit hit the fan even harder. A bunch of orcs, probably some from the attack on our LARP, decided to help chase the group. In the end they had to fight, resulting in Aragorn and Merry getting hurt. Sebastian assured me that they'd be fine, but still. That wasn't right. Frodo should've been the only one to get hurt before Rivendell.

We walk in silence for a while, while I mull over his story. After a while I ask: "Did you tell them where you're from?" I don't want Boromir to find out how much bullshit I've been telling him, so checking up on Sebastian's story makes sense.

"Hell, no. I told them I was from the Sourth, but that's it." Sebastian shrugs. "Did you?"

"I've told Boromir I'm from Rohan. Some clichéd shit about not wanting to stay when my friends are sent north. I don't think he believed me though." I can't blame him for that either. That story is a huge pile of bullshit and about everyone who knows a bit about the culture of Rohan would have noticed how fake it is. I should have probably kept my background vague like Sebastian had. But now its too late and I'll have to roll with it. Somehow. But having someone to back the story up might help.

Sebastian nods slowly, brows furrowed. He doesn't seem too pleased. Hm, something is off with him today. I can't exactly pinpoint what it is, but the way he talks and generally holds himself is... somehow off. Nervous or scared maybe, but that's pushing it. Don't get me wrong. I, too, am worried about the other guys. But Sebastian? This doesn't look like worry or sadness to me. "Really?" He gives me an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look. "You do realize that this isn't some lame fanfiction?"

"Yeah, well, I do _now_. Back then I thought I'd wake up any minute anyway, so I didn't really care, okay?" Sebastian just sights when I say that, but doesn't comment on it. He's right after all and he knows that I know that he is. Once again silence descends upon us. The way we are taking through the gardens is lined with flowers and hedges. Now and then we come across marble benches next to the path, but so far all of them have been empty.

"So", I start after a few minutes. "What now?"

"What'd you mean?"

"What do we do next? The Ring's here, the fellowship is about to form... You know what I'm getting at." The dream of every LotR-crazy person out there could possibly come true for us! Plus we might find out about what happened to everyone else.

Sebastian gives me a shocked look. "No! Heck, no. Forget about it. There's no way I'm legging it across Middle Earth. Not with orcs and monsters and all that shit out for my blood." I'm about to answer, but he lowers his voice and whispers: "I've been on the road for, like, two weeks with Nazgûl chasing me. There's no way I'm leaving Rivendell while they are still alive." He shivers. "You haven't felt their presence. And you should be happy about that... It's... It's fucking unnatural." Sebastian looks like he's about to get a panic attack or something.

"Alright, alright... So...uhm... How do you like Rivendell so far?" I change the subject, hoping that that might calm him down a bit. And he's right. I _am_ glad to have avoided any run-ins with the Black Riders so far. And to be honest, seeing Sebastian this shaken makes me doubt my idea of joining the quest. It's not like any of us is trained for that kind of thing anyway. I did do some martial arts back home, but that's about it. And getting an orc into an armlock won't do much in a large scale battle.

On the other hand there're orcs running amok in our world, people got injured, killed or worse and I feel like being here kind of means that we're responsible for helping them out. It is a tough call to make and I'm afraid that in the end it'll be made by someone else. We'll have to wait and see what happens at the council. If Sebastian or I are even invited to it. If anyone is invited, it'll probably be him anyway, seeing how he is the guy and I shouldn't even be here according to my backstory.

Sebastian has calmed down a bit, while he talks about how beautiful Rivendell is. And he is right. It's awesome and insanely beautiful. Okay, some parts of the house look a bit cheesy, but it fits the overall style of the elves so well, I don't care. Plus it's Middle Earth. They don't know about that TVtropes stuff so it is kind of ridiculous to accuse them of being cheesy.

"What about Frodo?" That's something I've been wondering about for a while now. "Is he still sleeping?" It might also help me with figuring out, how far the story has progressed allready.

"No, actually. Pippin told me he woke up around midday, but from what I know he hasn't left his room yet. By the way, Elrond is going to host a big feast tonight to honor Frodo and Co." That means today is the 24th of October. Cool. I sadly still have no idea when the council will be taking place... Hm. Maybe I can get Boromir to tell me if Sebastian doesn't get an invite.

"That's good to hear."

"I thought I might have killed him, you know...", Sebastian says quietly. "These orcs found them because of me. And people did get hurt. They tried to get Frodo, but that elf, Glorfindel, helped us fight them off..." Sebastian falls silent again. Wait, Glorfindel? That means this is bookverse. Cool. Even though I know the films better, the books are still amazing. But unless I'm on the quest to Mt. Doom it shouldn't matter which version this is anyway. It's good to know though.

There's not much to say about Sebastian's fears. I can understand him and thinking that you might have killed the main character off must be a pretty scary thought. We leave the gardens and Sebastian stops in the middle of a bridge. If I'm not mistaken it's the stone bridge Boromir and I crossed yesterday. Sebastian leans against the railing and stares into the swirling water beneath us. I root through the information gained from the conversation. There are a bunch of things that begin to make sense now and some theories I had have been confirmed. But there is one more thing.

I have been stuck in Middle Earth for two weeks now. And it doesn't appear to be a mere dream. So... It's probably about time to start treating the whole thing as if it's real. Which means... I might not see my family or my friends again. Ever. The thought hurts, but less than one might expect. Maybe because I started realizing that that might happen a while ago. There's still a bit of hope, though. In some stories the people managed to return home in the end, so... I know I'm just clutching at straws here, but it's still a possibility.

But if Middle Earth is real and it is possible to switch between our world and this one, wouldn't that mean our whole science needs a workover? I wonder how that even works... Wormholes maybe? Or teleportation? Who knows. But I doubt we'll be ever able to tell anyone back home about this. Let alone cash in on the Nobel Price a discovery like this diserves.

Sebastian finally sights and looks up at me. "Look, what you do is your decision and I really hope you do the right thing... I won't leave Rivendell until all of this is over and done, okay? Maybe others find their way here or something and I can help them out. But after Weathertop... No, I'll stay here. It's not our world, y'know." I just nod, unsure what to say. Sebastian turns back to the waterfall, thus ending the conversation.

I just stand there for another second, before leaving. Anger is boiling in my chest, not necessarily because of Sebastian, but more because of the entire fucking situation. I think about going back inside, but stop in front of the door. This is pissing me off so much. All of this. Cursing under my breath I end up following a narrow path up a small hill. I don't exactly watch where I'm going and in the end find myself on a paved patio on top of a small hill. It's empty and and offers a beautiful view over the entire valley, which i completely ignore.

How can Sebastian give up if there are orcs running around in our world, killing stuff and doing whatever orcs do? Yes, I understand he's afraid to change stuff and mess up everything, but still! I can't sit by idly while people I care about might be in danger. And there has to be a way to get home... Maybe Galadriel knows how. But getting to Lórien on my own? No way.

And there it is again. The best idea ever: Traveling with the Fellowship. I sigh and shake my head. This freaking sucks. All of it. Whatever I do means that I'll have to be able to fight... Which I'm not. My anger slowly fades and makes way for a growing sense of frustration. Shit.

The sound of steps makes me jump in surprise. As I turn around, Boromir is standing there, a friendly smile on his face. "Greetings, Laura. Lord Elrond has asked me to inform you that a council will be held tomorrow at ten in the morning on the east side of the house." Right... Shouldn't I have talked to Elrond first before he invites me to his council? Maybe I should've searched for him or something... But it seems to be just fine, so whatever. "There will also be a feast tonight and I was not sure if you had heard about it already."

"Alright. Thank you." Actually this gives me an idea. "So, uhm, would you mind helping me with something? I'm kind of bad at fighting and was wondering if you could... uhm, maybe help me out?" Man, I hate having to ask for help or admitting I suck at something. It's about as bad as having to apologize for stuff.

Boromir's smile fades and is replaced with a frown. "No."

"'No'? Why?" The fuck?

"Because there is no need for that. You are a lady, after all. No one would dare attack you here." He sounds as if he is explaining that the sky is blue or that one plus one equals two. Come on dude, really?

"That's no explanation. But I'll have to return home at some point and I doubt that orcs will care if I'm a lady or not. Plus you didn't complain about my armor when we were traveling together. That wasn't lady-like either."

"Indeed. But then it was important for your safety. I assure you, Lord Elrond will find someone to accompany you back to Rohan."

"Right. Because people will enjoy having to protect me while we ride through half of Middle Earth."

"Yes." Okay, that one did surprise me. Well played, well played indeed.

"So... What about you? Our way here worked pretty well, don't you think?" That one must have surprised Boromir, because he takes a moment longer before answering.

"I have to return to my home as soon as possible. I am sorry, but taking a detour through your home would take too long."

"And I could say the same about the search for a companion," I deadpan, a tad annoyed by now.

We keep arguing until a distant bell rings somewhere at the house. That has to be the signal for dinner, which is nice. I'm actually pretty hungry, seeing how I haven't eaten since breakfast. Plus it does a grande job of shutting Boromir up. It's not like I didn't enjoy talking to Boromir - it is nice to verbally spar with someone and I don't blame him for having views that appear strange to me. This is Middle Earth after all. It does annoy me, of course. Who wouldn't be annoyed?

"Let us go back, for the feast is about to begin." And with that Boromir makes his way back down the hill. I am following close behind and take a look around. The sun is about to set behind the mountains in the west and a shadow has already crept across the valley. From up here I can see the lanterns hanging in the trees. Now, at dusk, they seem to shine even brighter. The same goes for the windows of Elrond's house. To be honest I can understand why Sebastian would prefer to stay here. Rivendell is beautiful and one of the safest places in all of Middle Earth, after all.

We arrive at the house where Boromir pushes open the heavy door and steps inside. But before I can follow him, he stops me. "I shall help you." I'm about to thank him, but he holds up a hand. "But under one condition: Tell me the truth about yourself and I shall teach you to fight." And with that he turns around and steps inside, a broad, shit-eating grin on his face.

That dirty traitor.

**Daro! - Stop!**

**Hannam an i 'ovannas! - Elvish goodbye, probably something along the lines of 'We thank you for the meeting'. (In German it's 'Wir danken für die Begegnung' but I couldn't find a decent English translation on the Internet. So if anyone here is good with Elvish, help would be greatly appreciated.)**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved, followed and read the story. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it! And the story got over 200 views and about 100 visitors in ten days. Holy crap o.o**

**Stormrunner74: Thank you! The high five is on my list and the other point kind of got touched on in this chapter. I hope you like this chapter as well!**

**Summerflower13: I'm glad you like the humor :D**

**Freia72:****Thank you! Oh, nice :D I'm glad you like it. Haha, that's good. Orcs seem to always ruin the mood. These bastards.**


	5. The Council of Elrond

**Chapter 4: The Council of Elrond**

For a moment I just stare at Boromir's back in disbelieve. What the hell, man? I had hoped that he'd forgotten about my bullshit back story, but obviously not. Damn you, Boromir. I just shake my head with a sigh and follow him inside. Looks like I'll somehow have to bullshit my way through this. Again.

The great hall where the feast is supposed to be is on the left. The great wooden door is open and reveals a room full of chatting people. They are sitting on long tables and most of them seem to be elves from Elrond's household, but I can also see two dwarfs and a few hobbits scattered about. The feast hasn't started yet, as there are still a few empty chairs on Elrond's table. Sebastian is sitting next to the hobbits and seems to be engaged in a conversation. I quickly walk over to his table and slide in a chair next to him with a "Hey, guys!". Boromir takes a seat opposite of me. Sebastian greets us with a nod, before refocusing his attention on the hobbits, who are obviously telling him a story.

They must be Merry, Pippin and Sam. Awesome! All of them have curly hair in different shades of brown and friendly faces. All in all they look like adults who have been shrinked down to about one meter, except for their hairy feet. But those are hidden beneath the table at the moment. Figuring out who Sam is, is rather easy. He is a bit broader built than the other two and his clothes look slightly less expensive. But Merry and Pippin? No idea.

It's really weird... People here are sharing some similarities with the characters in the movies, but there are lots of differences as well. The real Boromir, for example, really has gray eyes like in the books.

There is still no trace of the missing guests, so I resume my game of let's-identify-the-awesome-guys. The dwarfs, seated at the table in the middle, must be Gimli and Glóin. Figuring out who Gimli is, is pretty easy. His father is sporting a braided white beard and looks... ancient. Gimli's probably the younger one, a guy with auburn hair and beard. Finding Legolas turns out to be nearly impossible between all these elves.

I can, however, identify Elrond. He is sitting at the head of the middle table on a decorated chair. Dark-haired, with a thin silver circlet on his head, dressed in expensive looking robes and stern eyes. This guy basically radiates power and wisdom. Arwen is sitting on the same table, but with her back turned to me. She has the same dark hair and is wearing a beautiful white dress. Aragorn is nowhere to be seen and the same goes for Gandalf, Bilbo and Frodo. I wonder when they'll show up.

When I turn my attention back to the people at hand, Boromir is watching the hobbits with an expression of complete awe and confusion. I have to suppress a grin because his face looks rather funny. The hobbits finish their story just in time to see two people enter the hall. One of them seems to be human, with a long, gray beard, equally long hair and clad in gray robes. A silvery, glittering scarf is showing under his messy beard. That has to be Gandalf. The other one is a hobbit with naked, wholly feet and curly, dark hair. He looks pale and nervous. Silence descends onto us until they have reached their respective seats – Gandalf next to Elrond and Frodo next to Glóin.

Lord Elrond rises from his chair and says a few words in Elvish, before switching to Common. Luckily he refrains from delivering a super long speech and just welcomes all of us in Rivendell, before sitting down again. The food is brought soon after. Once the hobbits are preoccupied with eating, Sebastian finally gets the chance to introduce us. Pippin turns out to be the slightly smaller hobbit with a mischievous look in his eyes and a broad smile on his face. Merry seems to be a bit calmer, but his eyes sparkle with intelligence.

The hobbits are kind of silent, maybe because they are bit intimidated by all the Big Folk and focus more on their food, resulting in Sebastian and me idly chatting about the weather during our journey to Rivendell. Boromir keeps glancing around the room and looks rather tense to me. It's obvious that he isn't trusting the elves much. The amount of mistrust here is just sad. We're supposed to be allies after all. And if we can't trust each other, who else is there we can trust?

"So, how did you get to know the Lady?", Pippin finally chimes in. He is shooting me curious glances while munching on a bite of apple pie. Now, at dessert, the hobbits seem to be stuffed enough to turn their attention away from the food stacked in front of them.

After a moment of consideration and getting kicked by Sebastian under the table, I start talking. "We have been traveling together from Rohan until we got separated during an orc ambush." In the corner of my eye I can see Boromir giving me the are-you-fucking-serious look, but he doesn't say anything, which I am grateful for. "Oh, and I kind of broke and lost your sword. Sorry, man." Sebastian just waves it off.

"An orc ambush?", Merry asks. His voice is a weird mix of curiosity and fear.

"Yes." Sebastian nods at him. "We believe it's the same orcs that attacked us." The hobbits exchanged nervous glances, but Sebastian forces a smile. "Don't worry. Rivendell is save and all of them should be dead by now." After that I give a quick description of the attack, without mentioning the LARP, of course. Sebastian doesn't talk much and lets me handle building our background story. Luckily he doesn't freak out this time around, though.

Boromir is up next and tells us about some of the places he saw and the people he met during his journey to Rivendell. He ends up giving a pretty detailed description of Minas Tirith, leaving the hobbits open-mouthed and in complete awe. The White City has always been one of my favorite places in Middle Earth and hearing someone talk about it like this is kind of surreal and extremely awesome at the same time. Okay, the whole situation is extremely surreal and awesome.

When it's the hobbits' turn to tell us about their home, they are a bit reluctant. Maybe because our stories intimidated them. But after some begging on our part Pippin tells us about Tom Bombadil and finally about Bilbo's legendary birthday party. Merry and Sam chime in now and then to add details or their version of the events. It's really detailed and in the end I feel like I know every single guest by name and how they are related to everyone else. Ah, well. Hobbits.

It's an interesting, funny and lighthearted conversation. The hobbits are awesome to talk to, at least as long as they don't start rambling about family trees or pipe weed (Luckily Sebastian managed to stop them before they could start off a full length lecture about the stuff). Half an hour later everybody is done eating and the hall is filled with the sound of quietly chatting people.

Elrond rises from his chair again, prompting everyone to fall silent and turn to face the elf Lord. I watch in confusion as Elrond leaves the table and makes his way towards the door. The elves seem to know what to do and follow him. Oh, right. There is still the part in the Hall of Fire left. Nice.

We follow Elrond through the Entrance Hall and into the Hall of Fire. I had stumbled upon it earlier while exploring Rivendell, but hadn't been able to see much in the dim light, so I take a quick look around. The room is dark, its only sources of light being a fire in the middle and a few lanterns scattered about. The high ceiling is resting on delicately carved and darkened wooden pillars and cushioned seats and pillows are laid out around the room. Faint music is playing from somewhere in the shadows.

The hobbits take off into different directions as soon as we enter the hall, probably to find Frodo and Bilbo or to annoy someone. Sebastian, Boromir and I are left standing around awkwardly. I take a deep breath. Okay, let's do this. And let's hope this isn't the worst idea of the Third Age. With an "If you'd excuse us, there is something we got to talk about" to Sebastian I grab Boromir's arm and drag the surprised Gondorian off into a secluded corner, as far away from any eavesdroppers as possible.

I settle into a big, comfortable chair and wait for Boromir to sit down opposite of me, before adressing him: "Alright. Now, please, tell me why you think I'm lying." Okay. I really hope this works like I hope it does. It's hard to read the guy's face in the dim light, but I'm sure he has put on a serious expression and is watching me carefully as I speak.

"It is fairly obvious." Boromir shoots me an apologetic glance but continues nonetheless. "Your manner of speaking and your accent are different from any I have heard so far. And I have spent much time in the company of men of Rohan. You are also unaware to many of our customs and your friend, Sebastian, is even worse at adapting his speech. The armor you wore when we first met is another point. It's design is different from any I have seen. And quite ineffective, to be honest." Okay, these are good points... There is no point denying that he is on to me and pulling another shitty cover-story form my arse probably won't cut it this time.

Let's hope my impression of his character isn't completely off. Here goes nothing. "First off, you're right." With a sigh I try to come up with a half-decent, physics-free explanation for this whole mess. Not that I got any way of knowing if I'm right. I really suck at explaining this kind of stuff, as my little sister could probably tell you. And explaining wormholes and alternative universes to a guy with the physics knowledge of a third-grader might get a bit complicated... Now I know how Solaire feels before giving his epic multiplayer tutorial speech. Maybe I should just quote him... Minus the jolly coop bit. "Can you do me a favor and not spread the stuff I'm gonna talk about around?" Boromir thinks about that for a second, before he solemnly nods. "Okay... alright. I'm not from... here. Here being Middle Earth. Explaining this is gonna suck..."

Boromir chimes in before I can continue. "Are you from Númenor?"

I just stare at him for a second. That's about the last theory I would've expected anyone to come up with. "What? No. Nonsense. That would be easy to explain, no? And Númenor sunk ages ago, if I'm not mistaken. Uhm... Anyway, can you imagine that other worlds exist alongside this one? Mine for example is similar to this one in some points and completely different in others. We don't have any hobbits or elves or dwarfs. Only hu... men. Alright?"

Boromir looks slightly confused, but nods. He seems to at least get the basic concept of what I'm trying to tell him.

"Good. Until a few days ago people in my world didn't know that these other worlds even existed. Some... scholars suspected it but they couldn't prove it. Anyway. I was going somewhere with a few friends, when a bunch of orcs attacked us from out of nowhere. We were unarmed because stuff like that simply doesn't happen in my world – heck, we don't even have orcs! You already know what happened during the attack so I'm just gonna skip that part. In the end at least some of my friends and some of the orcs ended up here. I've no idea where they are or how many of them got here... But you already know Sebastian." I trail off and wait for Boromir's reaction. I recon this is a better way of explaining stuff than going the 'yeah, you guys are all characters in a book and I know everything about you. Oh, and you get brainwashed and die in the end' route. Thinking about that scene makes me cringe. I never thought Boromir deserved to die in the story, but the person I got to know during the last few days is way too nice to pull that move at Amon Hen. But it has to happen, I guess. And I sure as hell don't want to be anywhere near it to watch it.

The silence drags on for maybe another minute, before Boromir starts talking again, effectively derailing my train of thought. "This is the strangest tale I have ever heard. Do you truly expect me to believe it?"

I just shrug. It's not like I got a soapstone in my pocket to prove it, if need be. "It's the truth. Plus it explains all of the things you pointed out rather nicely." I could have pulled out a Sherlock Holmes quote, but that would have made the whole thing even weirder.

"That... is true. Why do you not return to your realm?"

That's probably a fair question. "Well... I've no clue how traveling between 'realms' works. Not even our wisest scholars know that. As I said, until a few days ago nobody even knew that stuff like this is possible." Holy shit, this whole situation reminds me way too much of the _Thor_ movie. Sadly I don't have a Heimdall to teleport me back to Earth. We don't have to deal with a Destroyer either... oh, wait, we got Sauron, orcs on Earth and a bunch of people with the potential to fuck up canon running around in Middle Earth. That's _so_ much better...

"You seem to know a lot about Middle Earth." Boromir says this very matter of fact-ly, but I can't help but notice the faint hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Yeah, well, our worlds have a lot of similarities. Plus the orcs weren't exactly silent." They weren't exactly silent when cracking yo mama jokes, but Boromir doesn't have to know about that kind of stuff. I don't want to be the person to compromise the dude's innocence. There is also no way in hell I'm telling him about _the Lord of the Rings_. The whole thing is risky enough as it is already. Telling people I know stuff is only going to make this more awkward and dangerous for everyone.

"I understand." Boromir seems to be a bit more convinced this time, but the hint of suspicion is still there. Not that I'm surprised. My story _is_ pretty fucked up, after all. And Boromir isn't the most trusting person from what I've seen. We did get along alright on the way here, but seeing how the dude has a sword and I was unarmed, I can see why he didn't worry too much.

"'Tis a strange idea. A world inhabited by none but men... yet you did not seem surprised at the sight of halflings."

Oh, _come on_. What is this? A freaking police investigation? I try my best to put on a confused expression. "Halflings? I thought they're midgets." Now it's Boromirs turn to look confused. "You know? Like small men?" Let's hope there are midgets in Middle Earth... Good thing I did look kind of confused when we encountered the elven guards, so he can't really grill me about that one.

Boromir seems to be satisfied and we lapse into silence. I listen to the music that's still playing from the shadow and notice that it's the song of Eärendil Bilbo wrote. When I glance over to the fire, an old, white haired hobbit is standing on a stool singing. So that's Bilbo. A bunch of elves has gathered around him. There is also a guy dressed in what appears to be ringmail with a green stone on it. Tall, dark haired, green stone... that's Aragorn alright. And Arwen's with him. I didn't think I'd ever say that about a couple, but these two actually look really cute together.

I turn back to Boromir once Bilbo is done singing. "So I told you the truth. What about your side of the bargain?"

"I shall keep it. But let me bid you goodnight for now. You have given me a lot to contemplate." No shit. I probably just fucked up his whole conception of the world. With that he rises from his chair and bows slightly. Man, it's so weird how polite this guy is.

"Alright. Good night, then." I smile back politely and watch as Boromir leaves the Hall of Fire. Well, that was the weirdest conversation I've had in a while. And trust me, I've taken part in some messed up conversations. What worries me is that Boromir kind of knows about my origins now. It should be fine. Really, it should be. Unless my judgment is totally off, he's not going to run around and tell people about this – and this is Middle Earth, not Westeros, so chances are good that I'm right. I'm still not sure if it was the wisest thing to do. But now it's too late for that. I'll have to wait and see how all of this plays out.

I stay and listen to the music for a while, until I'm about to nod off in my chair. At that point I decide that it's probably better to go to bed. Back in my room I notice that the elves have cleaned and repaired my clothing. Sweet. The ringmail they left for me looks sturdier than mine, but is about the same weight. Maybe it's some kind of elf steel? Who knows.

In the next morning I'm up early. After getting cleaned and putting on a dress once again – I thought about simply wearing my stuff, but the council is serious business with important people attending it, so cloth pants, a t-shirt and a leather shirt probably won't cut it – make my way down to the great hall to grab some breakfast.

There's a lot of elves scattered about when I arrive. After scanning the crowded tables for a moment I realize that there is no one around I know. To be honest, the elves kind of intimidate me. They are beautiful, wise and old as fuck, so yeah. I end up sitting down next to Gimli and Glóin, who have kept some distance to the elves themselves.

They notice me as soon as I sit down, so I offer a small smile. "Uhm, hello."

The older dwarf, Glóin, gets up immediately and bows. He's a stocky, little guy with a friendly and kind of old looking face. But I'm not even one head taller than him. Wow, that's actually kind of sad. "Glóin, son of Gróin, at your service." Holy crap, the guy's dad's name really is _Groin_?

Gimli follows suit, standing up and bowing, like his dad did a second ago. He looks younger and is about the same height. "Gimli, son of Glóin, at your service."

Offering them a hand and saying 'Hi, I'm Laura' seems kind of wrong to me, so I stand up as well and try a bow. "Laura, daughter of Peter, at your service." We all sit down again and I notice that Gimli seems to be biting back a chuckle. Glóin seems to be amused too, but I'm not sure why. Wait... I should probably have done that curtsy-thing. Shit, I got no idea how that works. If I'll be hanging out in Middle Earth for some more time, I'll probably have to ask Boromir about it later. The dude seems to know his way around this kind of stuff.

I eat mostly in silence while listening to the dwarfs' conversation. It's quite interesting, to be honest, even though most of it is gossip from the Lonely Mountain. I have no clue who half of the people they are talking about are, but at the moment I'm comfortable with just listening to them. Plus watching people might get me some insight on how to act Middle Earth-y.

When the bell rings, we are all done eating and get up immediately. Luckily the dwarfs know how to get to the eastern porch where the council is supposed to take place. Because I have no clue how to get there I simply follow them.

When we arrive, most people are already there and only the Hobbits and Gandalf are still missing. I sit down in a free chair between Boromir and some elf I don't recognize. Everyone is silent and it's an uncomfortable and awkward silence. To me it feels like none of the guys sitting here actually want to be here.

I look around and try to identify everyone. There's of course the dwarfs, Boromir and Aragorn, who's sitting in a corner and is wearing his ranger grab. He looks rather tense, but has put on a bored expression. Then there's Elrond, whose forehead isn't as big in real life as it's in the movies. At least I won't be tempted to call him Mr. Smith this way. But having Mr. Smith in one room with Ned Stark, Magneto, that dude from Hidalgo, a penguin and Will Turner would make for an interesting fanfiction. Anyway, back to topic. Elrond looks stern and controlled how I'd imagine a ruler to look.

Finding Legolas is easier than I had expected. He's dressed in green and brown and looks kind of less lord-like than the Rivendell elves in their shiny, long robes. He looks friendly enough and is currently glancing around the porch warily. He also looks way younger than for example Elrond, but that's kind of hard to tell when you deal with immortal people.

Talking about Rivendell elves, there are some elves around I don't recognize. They must be Elrond's advisers or something. I'm not sure, who they are, but once this show gets on the road, Elrond will probably introduce them.

Frodo, Bilbo and Gandalf show up a few minutes later and take their seats. From the corner of my eye I notice Sam, who has sat down on the floor behind Frodo. No one seems to notice him or care about him being there in the first place, so I simply smile at him, before turning my attention to Elrond. I wonder if Merry and Pippin are here too and if this is going to follow the movies or the books.

Elrond rises from his chair and takes a long, calculating glance at everyone sitting on the porch. After a few introductory words he quickly introduces everyone. I end up as Laura of Rohan, which is totally fine with me. The elves I didn't recognize are Glorfindel and Erestor from Elrond's house and Galdor of the Grey Havens. There are a few others too, but I can't remember their names. The whole thing reminds me of these cliched self-help groups.

_'Hi, I'm __Elrond and I'm an alcoholic__.'_

_'Hello __Elrond__!'_

Something like that. The council starts out with a lot of talk about Sauron's movements in the far east and the south. I can't really help much with that, because I have no clue where most of the places everyone talks about are. I haven't even heard of about half of them! And at home I always thought, I was good at Middle Earth geography... Most of the news are new to me too, so I just sit there and listen. It gets interesting when the dwarfs start talking about how Sauron sent a messenger to the Lonely Mountain to trade his dwarf rings for information on Bilbo. They also mention the try to retake Moria, but no one knows what happened to the colonists that entered the mines. Well, I do, but I won't spoil it. And that's why I only listen to that part with half an ear.

It's just so weird to sit here with all these important people who obviously believe that I'm one of them. I feel out of place and nervous, because I'll have to talk to them at some point. Speaking in front of people has never been one of my strong points and this is kind of even worse than presenting stuff to my classmates back home was... God fucking damn it.

The moment when it starts to become interesting is, when Elrond begins to tell us the story of the One Ring. I know it, of course, but it's still interesting how the elf Lord manages to include so many details. He begins with Celebrimbor creating Rings of Power and explains how Sauron betrayed him. Somehow he manages to give us a history lecture on two ages of Middle Earth without boring everyone to death. And I even learned new things, because most of the details Elrond mentioned never appear in the books.

Elrond tells us about the last alliance while the morning slowly fades. Sauron is defeated and Isildur takes the Ring. It is brought to Gondor, where Isildur writes a scroll about it. Gandalf even takes the time to quote said scroll word by word, probably just because he can. Soon after Isildur's men get ambushed at the shores of Anduin and he dies, loosing the Ring in the riverbed. Elrond continues with the fall of Arnor and the fate of the heirs of Anarion. When he finally finishes this part of the Ring's story, Boromir gets up from his chair and starts talking.

His tale is way shorter, but way darker then Elrond's. Not to mention how it's way more up to date. The Nazgûl have returned to Minas Morgul and orcs are banding together on the east side of Anduin. It's kind of old news, to be honest, but everyone is still appropriately shocked about it. Wow, now I'm looking forward to their faces when they hear about Saruman's treason.

Anyway, Boromir recites the riddle Faramir and he had heard in their psychic dream:

_Seek the sword that was broken:_

_In Imladris it dwells;_

_There shall be counsels taken_

_Stronger than Morgul spells._

_There shall be shown a token_

_that doom is close at hand,_

_For Isildur's Bane shall waken,_

_And the Halfling forth shall stand._

As soon as Boromir finishes his riddle, Aragorn gets up and throws his sword on the table without a word. At the same time Gandalf mutters something to Frodo, prompting the hobbit to stand up and hold up the Ring. Well, that's one person's problems solved. But of course a short discussion on Aragorn's background ensures and in the end the ranger agrees to go to Minas Tirith and help against the forces of Mordor.

After all that is done, it's Bilbo's turn to tell us his part of the Ring's story and the little guy enjoys it to the fullest. He even quotes every single riddle from his game versus Gollum! If I hadn't already bought _The Hobbit _at home, I'd sure as hell do it now. Bilbo finishes his tale with a recount of the legendary birthday party, but gets kind of stifled by Gandalf: After a rather loud cough from the wizard, Bilbo quickly skips to the part where he gives the Ring to Frodo.

Frodo doesn't seem too happy when Elrond asks him to talk about his adventures, but complies nonetheless. It's not as detailed and way more hesitant than Bilbo's report, but it's still interesting to hear the whole story from Frodo himself. Plus this one kind of differs from canon. He mentions picking up Sebastian near Weathertop and getting attacked by orcs near the ford. When he finishes, a relieved expression spreads on his face. Wow, looks like I'm not the only one here who hates public speaking. While everyone starts asking questions and discussing the issue of the Black Riders – it looks like they haven't found all of the horses at the ford – I just sit there and wait.

Galdor, the elf from the Grey Havens finally asks how Gandalf knows that Frodo's Ring is the One and where Saruman is. That's a fair question, because the guy knows a ton about Ring lore. Well, it looks like that's my cue.

"Uhm, I can help you with that," I chime in. No one seems to have a problem with me speaking up, so I continue nervously. "Saruman seems to have fallen to evil. From what we know he is preparing Isengard for open war. His Uruks have been attacking settlements in Rohan for a while now, but nothing has been done about it, because he has spies and allies everywhere. The king was not himself anymore, when I left for Rivendell."

When I take another look around the council, shock has crept onto most of their faces. Elrond, Gandalf, Aragorn and Frodo seem to be the only ones who were not taken by surprise by the news, but that's probably because Gandalf told them about his little adventure on the spire of Orthanc. Yeah, that's it. My job here is done. Roll credits, please.

Before anyone else can comment on that, Gandalf starts talking and confirms my story by telling his tale. After that he tells us about Gollum, who found the Ring in the river Anduin about 500 years ago and how Aragorn helped with capturing the little bastard. When he starts talking about the last test he did in Bag End, people look nearly as shocked as after the Saruman revelation. Maybe they had hoped that Gandalf was wrong and they were safe after all, but now that hope got crushed.

And having Gandalf quote the Black Speech in the middle of Rivendell doesn't help either. It's really creepy, when he does it. I thought they'd exaggerated in the book and in the movie when it's said that the sky turns dark for a moment when Gandalf quotes it, but it's not. The sun seems to dim down for a short moment and the temperature on the porch drops about ten degrees. Or at least that's what it feels like. I can't say if that really is the power of the Black Speech or if Gandalf just trolled us with some of his magic. It's just plain creepy in the end.

And judging from the freaked out looks all around I'm not the only one thinking that. Elrond glares daggers at the Istar, who just shrugs it off with one of his super positive comments. Yay, grumpy wizards for the win!

Legolas tells us that Gollum managed to flee from his prison in Mirkwood, which sparks another series 'oh crap' expressions, but at this point the overwhelming majority agrees that we have bigger problems than that little fucker.

And with that the real council starts. To me it's kind of boring, because I already know the outcome. So I just sit there and listen while the weirdest ideas are brought forth. Boromir wants to take the Ring to Gondor but gets howled down by everyone else, an elf wants to have Tom Bombadil guard it, while someone else suggests to send it across the sea to Valinor and yet another guy wants to throw it back into the Anduin. Well, at least they are creative... I think about mentioning the catapult idea from the internet, but refrain from doing so in the end.

But all of these super epic plans have their weaknesses and in the end there is only one choice anyway: grilling the little fucker in Mordor.

After way more back and forth than necessary the council finally decides that destroying is indeed the only half-decent solution to the problem. Now there is only one question left for us to answer: Who will do it?

Inside the house the bell rings for lunch, but no one moves. I'm looking to the side and try to avoid eye contact, afraid that someone might think I was volunteering for the quest. I could do it, if I wanted to, but it's Frodo's job. And seeing how the quest goes in the real story I'd probably die before even making it to Lórien. So... no.

After what feels like an eternity Frodo stands up. "I will take the Ring, even though I do not know the way," the hobbit says. Everyone stares at him in surprise and with deep respect and in some cases, relief in their eyes. And it's well deserved, too. Frodo doesn't know it yet, but the task he just got himself deserves a ton of respect from everyone here. Right now the hobbit simply turns as red as a tomato and quickly sits back down.

**So So Something: Thanks, mate! I hope you enjoyed this chap too :)**

**TheParanoidGraveRobber:**** Haha, yeah. Sean Bean jokes are the best, lol**

**Well, that chapter turned out really long and with a lot of talking. I hope you still enjoyed it, ****eventho it was kind of late****. See ****it as a late ****Christmas present, lol. Thanks to all reviewers, everyone who faved or followed, and of course everyone who is just reading it. You are amazing and this just passed 500 views! Till ****next time!**

**Oh, yeah. About the catapult. If you don't know it already, go to Youtube and search for "Lord of the Rings: What about a catapult?" It's hilarious and worth watching!  
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	6. Elrond's brilliant Plan

**Chapter 6: Elrond's brilliant plan**

When I arrive at the Great Hall ten minutes later, Sebastian, Merry and Pippin are already there and wave me over to their table. I sit down next to them and proceed to pile some food on my plate. Listening to a bunch of dudes talking about the destruction of the world for hours on end can make you really hungry. "So," Sebastian asks with an excited gleam in his eyes. "How'd it go?"

"Yeah! And where are Frodo and Sam?," Pippin chimes in, before grabbing another apple and shuffling closer to us. He looks even more excited than Sebastian.

"Pretty good, I guess." I shrug and have to bite back a grin. "Frodo and Sam are still at the porch, but they should show up here any moment now. They were talking to Gandalf when I left." Just then the doors open and Boromir walks in, followed by the missing hobbits. He looks around the room, probably in search of an empty table. I wave at him and he moves over to sit with us, a slight frown on his face and the hobbits in tow.

Hm? I wonder what's wrong. Maybe it's because of the Ring or that little discussion with Aragorn earlier? While I'm still wondering about that, Frodo, Sam and Bilbo have taken their seats at the table and start telling the other hobbits about the outcome of the council. Merry and Pippin seem to be a bit confused about all of the details. Not surprising, seeing how even I with my crapton of knowledge haven't heard about some of the stuff.

Once lunch is done Boromir turns his attention to me. "Do you own a sword?" I just shake my head, taken by surprise. "I shall fetch one for you then. And you might wish to dress... differently." Ohh, looks like I'll finally get my lessons! Sweet. And I'm still wearing that damned dress. Fighting in that doesn't seem to be the best idea, considering I'm having trouble to not trip over the hem while walking normally. If I'd try to fight in it, the dress would probably take me down before Boromir can even lift his sword.

The five hobbits leave to do... whatever hobbits do in Rivendell. They'll probably spend the day discussing what was said at the council or something. Sebastian is getting ready to leave, too, as it seems. Might as well wait for him then.

The three of us leave the great hall together a few minutes later. Once we pass the high, wooden doors, Sebastian says: "See you later, guys." And with that he takes off towards the Hall of Fire. Okay then... looks like he has stuff to do.

"Meet me at the eastern porch in ten minutes." Boromir doesn't look particularly happy about having to teach me, but manages to conceal that fact pretty well. If I hadn't been on the road with him for the last weeks, I probably wouldn't even have noticed the slight note of displeasure in his voice.

"Alright. Thanks!" I flash him a cheerful grin. While Boromir leaves to grab a sword for me, I hurry to my room and put on my travel clothes, and after thinking for a moment, the ringmail too. I doubt that we'll be training with real swords, but better safe than sorry. The elvish ringmail is indeed way lighter than my old one, which is really nice. I put on the arm-guards and greaves as well. I'm not sure if they'll do any good against steel swords, after all they're designed to protect against foam weapons. But it's better than nothing, I guess. Sadly the polished steel of my armor plates looks really out of place here, because most other people are wearing either leather gear or less shiny metal stuff. That's probably what Boromir was referring to when he commented on my equip.

When I arrive at the porch a few minutes later, Boromir is already waiting. He's standing there with arms crossed and a serious (and slightly annoyed) look on his face. A bunch of swords is on the ground next to him. They're all different lengths and shapes plus most of them look rather old. Boromir himself has a sword on his belt that doesn't look like the one he's been carrying on the way to Rivendell. He waves me over once he notices me. "There you are."

Boromir sizes me up, before picking up one of the swords and handing it to me, hilt first. I grab it carefully. It's not as heavy as I expected and obviously dull. Good. I was a bit afraid he'd show up with sharp weapons or something. To be cut to ribbons during the tutorial isn't high on my priority list, to be honest. Boromir's frown deepens. "Swing it," he says. I swing the sword a bit reluctantly, but Boromir shakes his head and stops me. "No, try this one."

The whole thing kind of reminds me of the scene where Harry Potter gets his wand – only without the cool effects when he waves the wrong wand. I'm not exactly sure what Boromir wants to see, but he seems to know what he's doing, so I keep swinging different swords while feeling increasingly awkward. After the fifth or so blade he finally nods. "This one might work. Come on."

The blade does feel better balanced than the others and it's light enough for me to handle it with one hand. At least for a short time. Well, that's good, I guess? Boromir leaves the porch and positions in what seems to be a fighting stance. I take positions opposite of him in what I remember of the fighting stance various video games used. Still frowning, Boromir addresses me. "Attack me." He sounds a bit... bored? Annoyed? I'm not sure. Let's hope he's not getting brainwashed already. That would really suck.

Better to not argue with him. I take a step forward and launch an attack on Boromir's shoulder. He blocks it with ease. After some more swings he stops me and asks me to block his strikes. His attacks come in super slow-mo, so I can block them easily. Finally Boromir pauses and thinks for a moment, probably to analyze what he just saw. Wow, hopefully I didn't mess up too badly. That'd be kind of embarrassing.

"That was quite good... For a lady." I'm not quite sure if I should take that as a compliment or be offended by the sexist part of it. Ah, well. Better stick with the compliment. Boromir proceeds to launch into a _huge_ explanation on all kinds of basics. Really, he talks for like half an hour straight. He starts with a ton of technical terms, the stance, basic attacks, blocks and a bunch of other stuff. It's hard to remember all of it once we get back to practicing – and at some parts even harder to use the advice Boromir is giving, but I'm doing my best.

When we stop, I feel like I can barely lift the sword off the ground, plus I'm drenched in sweat. The whole lesson was way more intense and exhausting then I'd expected. Looks like I'll have a huge ass muscle hangover tomorrow... But what can you do? In all these movies the characters get like one lesson ever and beat up everyone else after that. That however is plain wrong. During the whole training I didn't manage to hit Boromir even _once_. It's not like I thought I'd be super awesome after one lesson... But not a single hit? That's kind of sad, if you ask me.

And so my stay in Rivendell begins. Most of it isn't noteworthy, but it takes me a while to get used to all of this. No running water, no internet, no electricity... It's really weird during the first weeks and it takes me quite some time to get over the fact that I'm stuck in a kind of medieval world.

The pain of leaving my home and everyone but Sebastian behind kind of dulls after a few weeks. But I don't think much about it, to be honest. Mostly because it hurts or because I'm busy with other stuff. Sebastian seems to get over it a bit faster, but his encounter with the Black Riders has left it's marks on him. Poor guy still gets super nervous super fast and looks like he expects an orc behind every corner. Once he nearly punched out Pippin when the hobbit startled him by accident. It'll probably take months until he is back to his old self... If it ever happens, that is.

After a week or so I begin to fall into a routine. Most of my mornings are spent in the library, reading about the legends and history of the world I'm stuck in. I did read the _Silmarilion_ back home, but it has been a while and I figured that the texts Elrond has might be more accurate. Plus it's really interesting. And considering the chances of ever getting to finish reading _a Song of Ice and Fire_ here are kind of slim, I might as well read these.

My training with Boromir continues during the afternoons in the park behind the main house. I improve a ton during that time. Not enough to take on Boromir, let alone Aragorn, but enough to survive longer than ten seconds, as Boromir put it at some point. By the way, the guy has cheered up quite a bit since we got here. His initial annoyance about having to teach me is almost gone and the same goes for his mistrust towards the other races. He is still careful, of course, but it's way less obvious than in the beginning. Or maybe he got better at hiding it? I can't tell.

I ended up spending the most time with Sebastian and Boromir, and through them with the hobbits. And the little guys are awesome. They are fun to be around, laugh a lot and know way more jokes than anyone I've ever talked to. At some point I taught them The Game (which you just lost, by the way), but regretted it two days later when one of Elrond's sons during dinner announced he had lost said Game. When half a dozen other people around the hall groaned or announced their loss too, I really began to doubt the wisdom behind teaching it to those two.

My contact to the other members of the future fellowship wasn't as deep. We saw each other at the meals and talked a bit, but most of it was just polite smalltalk and an occasional Hi/Bye.

I taught Boromir how to high five and what a Bro Fist is in exchange for a lesson in curtsying at some point. It was kind of funny to watch the guy do a perfect curtsy, but that's probably just because I can be a special kind of immature at times. Anyway, turns out the Gondorian equivalent to a high five is a weird medieval underarm-clasp-thingy you sometimes see in movies.

Time in Rivendell passes in a strange way, just like Bilbo says. On the one side it seems to crawl at an incredibly slow pace, on the other side it races past you. But it didn't really matter to me anyway. I felt like staying in Rivendell for ever. The threat of the Ring is hanging above our heads and I _know_ that even this place isn't save, but all of that seems so unreal and far away when you are in a place like Imladris. The Fellowship would have to leave at some point but at the moment I hoped they'd just stay.

But the reminder of all the dangers lying ahead comes nearly two months after my arrival in Rivendell. It's maybe an hour after breakfast and I'm sitting in the library, reading an old book about the destruction of Númenor. It's really interesting, but the author has the worst handwriting I have ever seen. Really. Deciphering some of the text passages takes freaking ages!

I look up and turn around when I hear soft footsteps approach behind me. The person standing there surprises me quite a bit. It's Lord Elrond in the flesh. The elf's hands are clasped behind his back and right now he's giving me a slight smile. I quickly rise from my chair and curtsy clumsily. "Uhm, good morning, Lord Elrond."

It's weird. I haven't talked to the guy in weeks and only saw him at the meals, so why would he show up here? Did he find out about my origin? I try to hide the fact that that thought is making me super nervous, but the elf seems to have picked up on that already. "Do not worry, for I only wish to speak with you." He gestures at the chair across from me. "May I sit with you?"

"Yeah, of course." I sit down again, while Elrond takes his seat on the opposite side of the table. He smooths down his long robe, before resting his hands in the wooden table. I close my book and push it to the side, before turning my full attention to the lord in front of me.

Elrond takes a look at the title. "An interesting piece of literature," he comments with a smile. "And most likely important to understand the full consequences of the darkness lying ahead." Wow, what is with people here? Cheer the fuck up. It's not like we still got a good chance to kick Sauron's ass. Elrond pauses before turning to me again, his smile now replaced with a dead serious look. "And this is what I wish to talk to you about."

Okay, that doesn't exactly sound like he has found out about my background. Good. But what else could he possibly want to talk about? Wait. He can't possibly... Nah, that'd be stupid and fucking cliché. "Alright. What is it?"

"The Fellowship will have to leave Rivendell soon and I would like to send one of your people with them." Are you fucking kidding me? "Your companion however wishes to remain here for the time being. He did however say that you might be a good choice. Not my first choice, but Sebastian seems to hold you in high regard." I repeat: Are you. Fucking. Kidding me.

Okay, so he's really asking me. At this point I'm not sure if I should be happy, after all going with the Fellowship is every nerd's dream, or run away screaming. Chances of not making it back alive are quite high after all, so the second idea sounds quite appealing.

I just stare at Elrond for a few seconds in disbelief. The guy can't be fucking serious. Really, he can't be. The shocked silence prompts the elf Lord to keep talking. "It is a dangerous mission and you should think about this very carefully before deciding. I will not lie to you: if you choose to go, you might not return." No shit, Sherlock. "There will be a council meeting in the Hall of Fire in about an hour. There it shall be decided who will accompany Frodo on his quest. I do not mean to rush you, but making your decision beforehand would most likely be for the best."

I just nod mechanically. So he wants my decision in an hour. Great. No fucking pressure, mate. "Right... I'll be there."

"Just know that you are welcome to stay in Rivendell, if you wish to do so." The elf Lord smiles at me again before rising from his chair.

I do the same. "Thank you, my lord. I will consider it."

Once Elrond is gone, I sink back into the chair. What was that all about? Sure, it makes sense to include someone from 'Rohan' in the Fellowship, if someone is available. But it still surprises me that Elrond even bothered to ask me. It seems kind of... Desperate. Sebastian's background says he is a Rohirric warrior and he has a tiny bit of experience with fencing in real life, so it doesn't come as a surprise that Elrond asked to him.

And after the stuff Sebastian told me, I'm not surprised he'd say no either. But asking me? Considering this is freaking Middle Earth makes that seem very weird. But none of that makes the decision any easier. Let's see... I could mess up the plot, causing evil to win or people to die. Or I could die. All of that sounds really fucking unpleasant.

On the other hand, going with the Fellowship is about every nerd's or teenage girl's dream. I read the books, watched the movies a gazillion times, played a ton of LotR games... I know the plot and all of its twists, so I should be able to avoid any dangerous situations, right? Meaning I can get out of the way when important stuff is about to happen and the plot should go as it's supposed to. My lessons with Boromir are going fine too, so running into an orc doesn't spell instant doom for me anymore. As long as the orc is as bad with a sword as Stormtroopers are with their guns.

And then it hits me: If I get lucky, I might be able to find a way back home! Or at least an explanation for what's going on here. Fuck orcs, fuck Balrogs... I'm gonna find a way back to Earth. Maybe Galadriel knows something. Don't get me wrong. Of course it's awesome to be in Middle Earth and to meet all these people, but I'm still missing my family and my home.

With still an hour to go until the meeting starts, I flip open the book once more. It's really interesting and all, but thanks to Elrond's little revelation my concentration is gone. After reading the same paragraph for the fifth time without paying any attention to its content I finally give up. I place the book back on its shelf with a sigh and leave the library.

Five minutes later I walk into the Hall of Fire. It's still at least half an our to go and the dimly lit room is nearly empty. A few elves are chilling by the fire and talk in low voices and somewhere a musician is playing a quiet song, but that's about it.

Still musing about Elrond's offer to join the Fellowship I sit down in a dark corner and wait for everyone else. I kind of want to do this. Not only because of the chance to return home, but because most of the people I know and like in Middle Earth will be going. And because I want to actually help defeat Sauron. If that guy or Saruman is behind the orc attack, they deserve to have their ass kicked for it. They deserve it anyway, but the attack would make them deserve it even more, especially if the person to help kick their ass is one of the survivors.

I was never big on revenge, mind you, mostly because I'm too lazy to hold a grudge against people for long, but all of this... It's making it really hard to not be angry at someone. Plus Elrond seems to think that I could help the Fellowship. And the guy has the gift of foresight, right? So maybe I have a job to do in Middle Earth? Like the girls in these super corny Legomances.

Holy crap, if it turns out I'm involved in a super secret elvish prophecy or some shit, I swear I'm gonna barf on the spot. However, I'm still human, so that's kind of unlikely. After all the girls in the cliché stories tend to turn into elves.

Slowly more and more members of the Council enter the Hall. I take a look around and notice Elrond is standing near the fire. There is no one else with him, so I might as well take the opportunity to inform him of my decision. After all it looks like there are way more pros to joining and some of the cons can be easily avoided.

I walk over to the elf lord and take a deep breath. Having to talk to him makes me kind of nervous, not only because blowing my cover could potentially screw me over big time. It's the intimidating aura he has about himself as well. Never in my life have I met a person who can tell you with one glance 'don't fuck with me or I will unleash my uber elven super powers and an army of highly trained immortal dudes on your ass'. "Ah, Laura. Have you made your choice?" There is no smile on his face now. He looks dead serious once again.

"Uhm, yes. You can count me in." I try a smile, but it probably failed. Elrond nods with a slight frown. He doesn't look too happy about my decision but accepts it none the less... Holy crap, who talked him into doing this? It can't possibly be Sebastian. Maybe Gandalf? But that doesn't make much sense, either. Well, whatever.

"Are you sure about this? Even Gandalf and I cannot see the path ahead of Frodo. I fear that none of his companions might return."

Ah, great. I gulp, before nodding firmly. "Yes... Yes, I'm sure." Thankfully I sound way more decisive than I fell right now. But as long as everything works out the way I hope it will, we should be fine. Elrond acknowledges my words, before turning to Legolas, who seems to be waiting to have a word with the Lord of Rivendell as well. Wow, looks like I'm not the only one making last minute decisions today. Okay, Elrond asked me kind of late so I didn't have much of a choice, but still.

I walk away from the fire to give the two elves some privacy. By now the Council is almost complete and most of them have settled into chairs around the fire. There are a few others chilling in the vicinity too. Sebastian, Sam, Merry and Pippin are seated in some arm chairs and are watching Elrond closely. There are also a few elves still hanging out in the Hall, but I'm not sure if they are here because of the meeting.

I grab a free seat between... Erestor, I guess, and the dwarfs. After a few minutes Elrond and Legolas finish their little talk and the wood elf sits down. Elrond remains standing, hands clasped on his back and a serious expression on his face.

After giving us a little intro talk and asking Frodo, if he was still willing to go, he finally gets to the most anticipated topic of the meeting: The lucky winners of the go-and-die-in-fucking-Mordor-lottery: "The Company of the Ring shall be nine. And the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil. With Frodo and Sam Gandalf will go, for this shall be his greatest task and maybe the end of his labors." Okay, I'm kind of curious how Elrond wants to make this nine people. After all there are ten of us now. But okay. He probably doesn't know about Merry and Pippin yet. "For the rest, they shall represent the free peoples of Middle Earth. For the dwarfs Gimli, son of Glóin will go and for the elves Legolas Thranduilion of the Woodland realm. Aragorn of the Dunedain will go, for the Ring concerns him too."

"Strider!" Frodo sounds really happy that his ranger friend is going with him. Elrond however seems to be a bit peeved about being interrupted during his epic speech. Frodo doesn't notice that or simply doesn't care. "I thought you were going to Minas Tirith with Boromir?"

"I do, but we have the same way for hundreds of miles." Elrond clears his throat, so Aragorn cuts whatever else he wanted to say short and lets the elf lord continue. Wow, I always thought Elrond was way more patient than that. But who knows?

"Boromir of Gondor and Laura of Rohan will go as well." Holy fuck. So he was actually serious. I kind of doubted it, after all this is wrong on so many levels. Well, mostly on the level of canon... and maybe cliché. "This leaves one. Maybe I could send one of my own household-"

Elrond gets cut off again, this time by Merry and Pippin who have gotten up and are now standing next to Frodo, arms crossed and looks of absolute determination on their faces. "But that would leave no space for us," Pippin complains. "We want to go with Frodo!" Holy crap, they are even rivaling Sam's performance during the first council meeting. Elrond is giving them an are-you-fucking-serious look, while various other members of the council are biting back grins. Note that most of them are not part of the quest. Dirty bastards. At least they are having fun.

„That is because you do not understand and cannot imagine what lies ahead," says Elrond dryly. He sounds like he is desperately trying to hold back a sigh or an eye roll. "If you knew these things, you would not be as eager to go." Wow, that's nice. Way to go, Elrond.

At that point Gandalf steps in to defend the little guys. "No one of us knows what lies ahead." Uhhh, no. But whatever. "And I, Lord Elrond, would place more trust in friendship than in might or great power. As you said, our mission is one of stealth and not one of military power." Right. Go, hobbit power!

"Exactly," Pippin comments from the back, sounding surprised. Granted, Gandalf's support came unexpected. "Anyway, you would have to tie us up and send us back to the Shire in a sack to stop us from following Frodo!" At this point I have to grin too. The courage of these hobbits is incredible, after all. Frodo is a lucky dude to have friends as good as them.

At this point Elrond gives up with a sigh. "So be it, then. Nine shall accompany the Ring Bearer on his quest." At least the elf found a way to fix the Nine Walkers stuff to accommodate the uber-awesome Ten Walkers. "The Black Riders will have returned to their master by now. Time is on the essence if you wish to leave Rivendell unseen." He pauses for dramatic effect and takes a solemn look around the Hall, lingering in the faces of the Fellowship. Whatever comes next, can't be good. "The Company is to be ready in one week."

There you have it.

So it's official now. I'm going with the Fellowship. Holy crap. And our time in Rivendell is coming to a close as well. That's kind of sad, to be honest. I really like it here. The people are friendly, at least from what I can tell. They might be insulting me in Elvish instead of saying hello, but my Sindarin is basically nonexistent. So it's not like I'd notice that. Anyway, Rivendell is just... beautiful. Once you get used to all the weird stuff, that is. Heck, the lack of technology and plumbing is still bothering me.

The next few days are really busy. Equipment and supplies have to be acquired, Aragorn's sword gets reforged and renamed to Anduríl, plans are made and routes are planed... And meanwhile the moral reaches a new low. No one seems to be happy about the prospect of leaving the save elven city.

At some point the hobbits tried to do some teambuilding during dinner by having the whole Fellowship and friends sitting at one table. Sadly it failed miserably. The dwarfs and Legolas kept as much distance as possible and spent the entire time engaged in a glaring competition. Gandalf didn't show at all while Aragorn at least sat around silently and watched everyone else. Boromir looked really uncomfortable and kind of paranoid and it looked like he tried to get a seat close to either other humans or hobbits. The hobbits themselves did their best to get a conversation going, while Sebastian and I sat around awkwardly.

At that point the legendary Fellowship was basically a bunch of people who don't trust each other enough to share a freaking pizza. It would probably get better with time, but it was still kind of sad.

I spent some time in the library and watched while Aragorn, Gandalf and Frodo planned and discussed routes. It was interesting, but they never really got any further than to the pass of Caradhras, because Gandalf and Aragorn couldn't agree which way should be taken from there.

Now that the whole Fellowship thing is official, Boromir and I ended up training even more. He's gotten over his initial mistrust against me and my background and seems to finally accept the fact that his student is a woman. Plus we even got visitors in the form of Legolas and Aragorn during training. Aragorn ended up showing both of us some new tricks, which wasn't too surprising, considering how much more experience he had. Legolas challenged us to a two vs one while Sebastian and the hobbits watched.

He proceeded to whop our collective ass with that knife of his. Granted, I 'died' after, like, two seconds, so it was really just a one versus one, and Boromir did a really good job of keeping the elf at a distance. But once Legolas managed to close in on Boromir, he managed to grab the human's sword in a matter of seconds and disarmed said human a moment later.

After that little display of skill, Legolas bows, first to Boromir and I, then to the people who watched us. I get up from the grass where I had been sitting after 'dieing' and do the same, before grinning at Legolas. "That was amazing, mate. Well played." Someone should seriously nerf these elves...

Our last day in Rivendell has begun and Boromir and I meet up at the porch after lunch like so often before. This time, however, it's not for training. "Come on," mutters the dude glumly. "We leave tonight and you still do not have a suitable blade." I follow him as he walks down a path leading up a hill behind the house.

It's so weird to imagine I've been living in Rivendell for over two months now and by this time tomorrow I'll be somewhere on the road to Mordor. And to be honest I'm pretty damn nervous about all that. But from what I saw at lunch, nearly everyone is. Some are hiding it better than others, but from what I can tell, no one is unaffected by it.

I push these thoughts aside when we arrive at what seems to be an elvish smithy. A beautiful pavilion is protecting the shop from rain and inside an Elf is hammering away at what seems to be a piece of armor. Swords, shields and various other things are lying around everywhere. The smith himself looks unlike all your cliché smiths ever. He's super thin, young, beardless and for some reason not sweaty at all... he's an elf too, so I really don't know why I'm even surprised.

Boromir clears his throat rather loudly which prompts the elf to stop working and turn to face us. He bows slightly before smiling at us. "Mae govannen. I assume you are here because of the sword?" Boromir nods, while I just stand next to him awkwardly. "Very well." The smith proceeds to rummage around his workshop for a minute, until he finds whatever he was looking for. With the friendly smile still on his face, he returns to us and hands me a sword in a scabbard.

It's not very fancy or anything, but feels good in my hands. Basically it's like the sword I used for training, only a bit lighter. "Uh, thanks." I smile at the smith and bow slightly, before fastening the scabbard on my belt.

The smith just smiles. "You do not need to thank me, but Lord Elrond, for he had me forge it." Okaaay. Looks like I really have a _ton_ to say about what's going on. Really, what is it with people doing important stuff without telling me? "But now I must bid you farewell. There is still work that needs to be finished." With another smile the elf walks back to the fire and starts to work once more.

"Yeah, alright. Still thanks for making it. The sword's amazing!" The smith chuckles while picking up a piece of metal and placing it in the flames. Ah, well. Doesn't look like I'll get anything else out of him, so I turn back to Boromir. We walk back to the house and I can't help but fiddle with the hilt of my newly acquired sword.

The rest of the day passes in a blur and before I even know it, dusk falls. The Fellowship including me is waiting outside the house. Both Gandalf and Elrond are still missing, while a bunch of other people have joined us to say their goodbyes. Aragorn and Arwen are standing at the side, holding hands and talking in low voices, the hobbits have grouped near the door and Gimli and his dad are talking in a gruff sounding language only a few meters to my left. Legolas seems to be done already. He is standing next to Bill the Pony with an unreadable expression on his face. Boromir is standing near me, looking about as out of place as I feel.

Suddenly the door bursts open and Sebastian hurries outside. He takes a quick look around, before running up to me, a relived expression on his face. "Holy crap, I thought, I'd missed you guys," he breathes before giving me a sad smile. "So... Good luck, I guess?"

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, mate." I scratch the back of my head awkwardly and offer him a hand. "See you?"

"See you." Sebastian shakes my hand. "Don't get yourself killed." He hesitates for a second, leans in and whispers in the most serious and borderline menacing tone of voice I've ever heard him use: "Don't change anything, you hear me? Don't. Change. Anything." I nod, slightly taken aback by his demeanor. Changing stuff wasn't my plan and Sebastian knows that.

"I won't, okay? Really." Sebastian nods. He isn't too happy about any of this, but there's nothing he can do right now.

With a sigh he releases my hand and takes a step back, a frown etched into his face. "Good luck, anyway. If you die, I'll kill you." We nod at each other and he leaves to talk to Boromir. That was... weird to say the least. There are of course things one could change, but the possible consequences outweight the benefits of said changes by far. So no messing with the plot for me... I watch as Boromir gives Sebastian a nod and a serious bow, before they clasp underarms in a weird, medieval way. Gandalf and Elrond use that exact moment to finally show up. They probably discussed some last minute plans or something.

Sebastian, Arwen and the other people who have been standing with us quickly take their leave after some more goodbyes and move to stand on the front porch. The Fellowship plus me groups up around Legolas and Bill. Epic group-shot time! Only that the sad bunch that is us doesn't look one bit heroic or awesome or anything along these lines. Elrond studies our faces for a moment. When he starts talking, his voice is grave. "The Ring Bearer in now setting out to destroy the One Ring..." While Elrond is giving his little speech, I take a closer look at everyone. When PJ shot the movies, he clearly went with the Rule of Cool. Gimli isn't carrying three axes (the single ax hanging from his belt is still pretty impressing), Legolas has only one knife plus bow and arrows, Aragorn isn't a wandering armory, as far as I can see and Boromir's shield looks thinner and lighter than it did in the movies. Gimli, Boromir, Frodo and I are the only ones wearing ringmail. Everyone else is dressed in warm traveling clothes with cloaks draped around their shoulders. Well, except for Legolas. But he is a freaking elf after all.

Night has by now fully fallen and the lanterns and bright windows of the house make me wish I'd declined Elrond's offer. But it's too late for that now, I guess-

The sound of a horn being blown directly next to me makes me jump and brutally derails my train of thoughts. Elrond must have finished his speech while I was zoned out. Damnit. Anyway, Boromir who is obviously responsible for the noise lowers the horn of Gondor. Everyone else is staring at him with varying degrees of disbelief, shock and what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you written on their faces. Gandalf is facepalming. "What?" Boromir doesn't even look ashamed or anything. He probably didn't get the memo about this being a stealth mission. "I have always blown the horn at the beginning of a journey. Setting out like thieves in the night-"

Elrond rises a hand to shut Boromir up and sighs. He looks borderline pissed by now. "Now, as I was _saying..._ May the blessings of elves, dwarves, men and all free folk be with you."

This seems to be our cue to leave. Everyone turns around after waving at their friends one last time and follows Gandalf and Aragorn, who have taken positions at the front. Frodo is with them, as are Merry and Pippin, who are chatting away quietly. Gimli is behind them, followed by Boromir, me and Sam who is leading Bill. Legolas takes the back of the line.

We walk across the bride and through the forest, but this time I can't see any elves there. It's a sad walk through the valley and I think about turning back way more than I'd like to admit. It's weird. This is the first Christmas eve ever I'm spending without my family... In Rivendell... On my merry way to Mordor. Fucking great. Just fucking great.

We leave the shadow of the trees a few minutes later and start to climb up the narrow, white path Boromir and I took when we first arrived in Rivendell. Holy crap, that seems like ages ago!

When I take a quick glance over my shoulder in hopes of taking one last look at the Last Homely House, it's already hidden from my sight behind the trees.

With a sigh I turn back towards the path. Well then. Looks like there is no way but forward.

**Uhh, yeah... Late again. Anyway, university and real life have taken quite a toll on my time. But I'm still alive. Anyway, thanks to my dear reviewers, followers and readers! See you next time.**

**Jessicaelvenprincess:**** Thank you so much! I'm doing my best and hope you enjoy this chapter as well.**


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